THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


ZISKA 

THE    PROBLEM    OF    A    WICKED    SOUL 


A  Dramatic  Version  of  this   Story  has  been  duly 
copyrighted  in  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States 


COPYRIGHT,  1897,  BY 
STONE    AND    KIMBALL 


PR 


TO   THE 

PRESENT    LIVING    RE-INCARNATION 
OF 

ARAXES 


G8OO72 


ZISKA. 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  A   WICKED  SOUL. 

PROLOGUE. 

DARK  against  the  sky  towered  the  Great 
Pyramid,  and  over  its  apex  hung  the  moon. 
Like  a  wreck  cast  ashore  by  some  titanic 
storm,  the  Sphinx,  reposing  amid  the  un- 
dulating waves  of  grayish  sand  surrounding 
it,  seemed  for  once  to  drowse.  Its  solemn 
visage  that  had  impassively  watched  ages 
come  and  go,  empires  rise  and  fall,  and 
generations  of  men  live  and  die,  appeared 
for  the  moment  to  have  lost  its  usual  ex- 
pression of  speculative  wisdom  and  intense 
disdain — its  cold  eyes  seemed  to  droop,  its 
stern  mouth  almost  smiled.  The  air  was 
calm  and  sultry  ;  and  not  a  human  foot  dis- 
turbed the  silence.  But  towards  midnight 
a  Voice  suddenly  arose  as  it  were  like  a 
wind  in  the  desert,  crying  aloud  :  "Araxes! 
7 


8  PROLOGUE 

Araxes  !  "  and  wailing  past,  sank  with  a 
profound  echo  into  the  deep  recesses  of  the 
vast  Egyptian  tomb.  Moonlight  and  the 
Hour  wove  their  own  mystery  ;  the  mystery 
of  a  Shadow  and  a  Shape  that  flitted  out  like 
a  thin  vapor  from  the  very  portals  of  Death's 
ancient  temple,  and  drifting  forward  a  few 
paces  resolved  itself  into  the  visionary  fair- 
ness of  a  Woman's  form — a  Woman  whose 
dark  hair  fell  about  her  heavily,  like  the  black 
remnants  of  a  long-buried  corpse's  wrap- 
pings ;  a  Woman  whose  eyes  flashed  with 
an  unholy  fire  as  she  lifted  her  face  to  the 
white  moon  and  waved  her  ghostly  arms 
upon  the  air.  And  again  the  wild  Voice 
pulsated  through  the  stillness. 

"  Araxes !  .  .  .  Araxes  !  Thou  art  here, 
— and  I  pursue  thee  !  Through  life  into 
death  ;  through  death  out  into  life  again ! 
I  find  thee  and  I  follow  !  I  follow  ! 
Araxes  !  .  .  .  " 

Moonlight  and  the  Hour  wove  their  own 
mystery  ;  and  ere  the  pale  opal  dawn  flushed 
the  sky  with  hues  of  rose  and  amber  the 
Shadow  had  vanished  ;  the  Voice  was  heard 
no  more.  Slowly  the  sun  lifted  the  edge  of 
its  golden  shield  above  the  horizon,  and  the 
great  Sphinx  awaking  from  its  apparent 
brief  slumber,  stared  in  expressive  and  eter- 


PROLOGUE  9 

nal  scorn  across  the  tracts  of  sand  and  tufted 
palm-trees  towards  the  glittering  dome  of 
El-Hazar — that  abode  of  profound  sanctity 
and  learning,  where  men  still  knelt  and  wor- 
shipped, praying  the  Unknown  to  deliver 
them  from  the  Unseen.  And  one  would  al- 
most have  deemed  that  the  sculptured  Mon- 
ster with  the  enigmatical  Woman-face  and 
Lion-form  had  strange  thoughts  in  its  huge 
granite  brain  ;  for  when  the  full  day  sprang 
in  glory  over  the  desert  and  illumined  its 
large  features  with  a  burning  saffron  radi- 
ance, its  cruel  lips  still  smiled  as  though 
yearning  to  speak  and  propound  the  terrible 
riddle  of  old  time ;  the  Problem  which  killed  ! 


CHAPTER  I. 

IT  was  the  full  "  season  "  in  Cairo.  The 
ubiquitous  Britisher  and  the  no  less  ubiqui- 
tous American  had  planted  their  differing 
"  society  "  standards  on  the  sandy  soil  wa- 
tered by  the  Nile,  and  were  busily  engaged 
in  the  work  of  reducing  the  city,  formerly 
called  Al  Kahira  or  The  Victorious,  to  a  more 
deplorable  condition  of  subjection  and  slav- 
ery than  any  old-world  conqueror  could  ever 
have  done.  For  the  heavy  yoke  of  modern 
fashion  has  been  flung  on  the  neck  of  Al 
Kahira,  and  the  irresistible,  tyrannic  domin- 
ion of  "  swagger "  vulgarity  has  laid  The 
Victorious  low.  The  swarthy  children  of 
the  desert  might,  and  possibly  would,  be 
ready  and  willing  to  go  forth  and  fight  men 
with  men's  weapons  for  the  freedom  to  live 
and  die  unmolested  in  their  own  native 
land  ;  but  against  the  blandly-smiling,  white- 
helmeted,  sun-spectacled,  perspiring  horde 
of  Cook's  "  cheap  trippers,"  what  can  they 
do  save  remain  inert  and  well-nigh  speech- 

II 


12  ZISKA 

less  ?  For  nothing  like  the  cheap  tripper 
was  ever  seen  in  the  world  till  our  present 
enlightened  and  glorious  day  of  progress ; 
he  is  a  new-grafted  type  of  nomad,  like 
and  yet  unlike  a  man.  The  Darwin  theory 
asserts  itself  proudly  and  prominently  in 
bristles  of  truth  all  over  him — in  his  restless- 
ness, his  ape-like  agility  and  curiosity,  his 
shameless  inquisitiveness,  his  careful  cleans- 
ing of  himself  from  foreign  fleas,  his  general 
attention  to  minutiae,  and  his  always  vora- 
cious appetite  ;  and  where  the  ape  ends  and 
the  man  begins  is  somewhat  difficult  to  dis- 
cover. The  "  image  of  God  "  wherewith  he, 
together  with  his  fellows,  was  originally  sup- 
posed to  be  impressed  in  the  first  fresh  days 
of  Creation,  seems  fairly  blotted  out,  for 
there  is  no  touch  of  the  Divine  in  his  mortal 
composition.  Nor  does  the  second  created 
phase — the  copy  of  the  Divine — namely,  the 
Heroic, — dignify  his  form  or  ennoble  his 
countenance.  There  is  nothing  of  the  heroic 
in  the  wandering  biped  who  swings  through 
the  streets  of  Cairo  in  white  flannels,  laugh- 
ing at  the  staid  composure  of  the  Arabs,  flick- 
ing thumb  and  finger  at  the  patient  noses  of 
the  small  hireable  donkeys  and  other  beasts 
of  burden,  thrusting  a  warm  red  face  of  in- 
quiry into  the  shadowy  recesses  of  odorifer- 


ZISKA  13 

ous  bazaars,  and  sauntering  at  evening  in 
the  Esbekiyeh  Gardens,  cigar  in  mouth  and 
hands  in  pockets,  looking  on  the  scene  and 
behaving  in  it  as  if  the  whole  place  were  but 
a  reflex  of  Earl's  Court  Exhibition.  History 
affects  the  cheap  tripper  not  at  all ;  he 
regards  the  Pyramids  as  "good  building" 
merely,  and  the  inscrutable  Sphinx  itself  as 
a  fine  target  for  empty  soda-water  bottles, 
while  perhaps  his  chiefest  regret  is  that  the 
granite  whereof  the  ancient  monster  is  hewn 
is  too  hard  for  him  to  inscribe  his  distin- 
guished name  thereon.  It  is  true  that  there 
is  a  punishment  inflicted  on  any  person  or 
persons  attempting  such  wanton  work — a 
fine  or  the  bastinado ;  yet  neither  fine  nor 
bastinado  would  affect  -the  "  tripper"  if  he 
could  only  succeed  in  carving  "  'Any  "  on 
the  Sphinx's  jaw.  But  he  cannot,  and  here- 
in is  his  own  misery.  Otherwise  he  com- 
ports himself  in  Egypt  as  he  does  at  Mar- 
gate, with  no  more  thought,  reflection,  or 
reverence  than  dignify  the  composition  of 
his  far-off  Simian  ancestor. 

Taking  him  all  in  all,  he  is,  however,  no 
worse,  and  in  some  respects  better,  than  the 
"  swagger  "  folk  who  "  do  "  Egypt,  or  rather, 
consent  in  a  languid  way  to  be  "  done  "  by 
Egypt.  These  are  the  people  who  annually 


14  ZISKA 

leave  England  on  the  plea  of  being  unable  to 
stand  the  cheery,  frosty,  and  in  every  respect 
healthy  winter  of  their  native  country — that 
winter,  which  with  its  wild  winds,  its  spark- 
ling frost  and  snow,  its  holly  trees  bright 
with  scarlet  berries,  its  merry  hunters  gal- 
loping over  field  and  moor  during  daylight 
hours,  and  its  great  log  fires  roaring  up  the 
chimneys  at  evening,  was  sufficiently  good 
for  their  forefathers  to  thrive  upon  and  live 
through  contentedly  up  to  a  hale  and  hearty 
old  age  in  the  times  when  the  fever  of  travel- 
ling from  place  to  place  was  an  unknown 
disease,  and  home  was  indeed  "  sweet  home." 
Infected  by  strange  maladies  of  the  blood 
and  nerves,  to  which  even  scientific  physi- 
cians find  it  hard  to  give  suitable  names, 
they  shudder  at  the  first  whiff  of  cold,  and 
filling  huge  trunks  with  a  thousand  foolish 
things  which  have,  through  luxurious  habit, 
become  necessities  to  their  pallid  existences, 
they  hastily  depart  to  the  Land  of  the  Sun, 
carrying  with  them  their  nameless  languors, 
discontents  and  incurable  illnesses,  for  which 
Heaven  itself,  much  less  Egypt,  could  pro- 
vide no  remedy.  It  is  not  at  all  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  these  physically  and  morally 
sick  tribes  of  human  kind  have  ceased  to 
give  any  serious  attention  as  to  what  may 


ZISKA  15 

possibly  become  of  them  after  death,  or 
whether  there  is  any  "  after,"  for  they  are 
in  the  mentally  comatose  condition  which 
precedes  entire  wreckage  of  brain-force ; 
existence  itself  has  become  a  "  bore ;  "  one 
place  is  like  another,  and  they  repeat  the 
same  monotonous  round  of  living  in  every 
spot  where  they  congregate,  whether  it  be 
east,  west,  north,  or  south.  On  the  Riviera 
they  find  little  to  do  except  meet  at  Rum- 
pelmayer's  at  Cannes,  the  London  House  at 
Nice,  or  the  Casino  at  Monte-Carlo ;  and  in 
Cairo  they  inaugurate  a  miniature  London 
"  season  "  over  again,  worked  in  the  same 
groove  of  dinners,  dances,  drives,  picnics, 
flirtations,  and  matrimonial  engagements. 
But  the  Cairene  season  has  perhaps  some 
advantage  over  the  London  one  so  far  as 
this  particular  set  of  "swagger"  folk  are 
concerned — it  is  less  hampered  by  the  pro- 
prieties. One  can  be  more  "  free,"  you 
know !  You  may  take  a  little  walk  into 
"  Old  "  Cairo,  and  turning  a  corner  you  may 
catch  glimpses  of  what  Mark  Twain  calls 
"  Oriental  simplicity,"  namely,  picturesquely- 
composed  groups  of "  dear  delightful  "  Arabs 
whose  clothing  is  no  more  than  primitive 
custom  makes  strictly  necessary.  These 
kind  of  "  tableaux  vivants  "  or  "  art  studies  " 


16  ZISKA 

give  quite  a  thrill  of  novelty  to  Cairene- 
English  Society, — a  touch  of  savagery, — a 
soupgon  of  peculiarity  which  is  entirely  lack- 
ing to  fashionable  London.  Then,  it  must 
be  remembered  that  the  "  children  of  the 
desert  "  have  been  led  by  gentle  degrees  to 
understand  that  for  harboring  the  strange 
locusts  imported  into  their  land  by  Cook, 
and  the  still  stranger  specimens  of  unclassi- 
fied insect  called  Upper  Ten,  which  imports 
itself,  they  will  receive  "  backsheesh." 

"  Backsheesh  "  is  a  certain  source  of  com- 
fort to  all  nations,  and  translates  itself 
with  sweetest  euphony  into  all  languages, 
and  the  desert-born  tribes  have  justice  on 
their  side  when  they  demand  as  much  of 
it  as  they  can  get,  rightfully  or  wrong- 
fully. They  deserve  to  gain  some  sort  of 
advantage  out  of  the  odd-looking  swarms 
of  Western  invaders  who  amaze  them  by 
their  dress  and  affront  them  by  their 
manners.  "  Backsheesh,"  therefore,  has 
become  the  perpetual  cry  of  the  Desert- 
Born, — it  is  the  only  means  of  offence  and 
defence  left  to  them,  and  very  naturally  they 
cling  to  it  with  fervor  and  resolution.  And 
who  shall  blame  them  ?  The  tall,  majestic, 
meditative  Arab — superb  as  mere  man,  and 
standing  naked-footed  on  his  sandy  native 


ZISKA  17 

soil,  with  his  one  rough  garment  flung  round 
his  loins  and  his  great  black  eyes  fronting, 
eagle-like,  the  sun — merits  something  con- 
siderable for  condescending  to  act  as  guide 
and  servant  to  the  Western  moneyed  civilian 
who  clothes  his  lower  limbs  in  straight,  fun- 
nel-like cloth  casings,  shaped  to  the  strict  re- 
semblance of  an  elephant's  legs,  and  finishes 
the  graceful  design  by  enclosing  the  rest  of 
his  body  in  a  stiff  shirt  wherein  he  can 
scarcely  move,  and  a  square-cut  coat  which 
divides  him  neatly  in  twain  by  a  line  imme- 
diately above  the  knee,  with  the  effect  of 
lessening  his  height  by  several  inches.  The 
Desert-Born  surveys  him  gravely  and  in  civil 
compassion,  sometimes  with  a  muttered 
prayer  against  the  hideousness  of  him,  but 
on  the  whole  with  patience  and  equanimity, 
— influenced  by  considerations  of  "  back- 
sheesh."  And  the  English  "  season  "  whirls 
lightly  and  vaporously,  like  blown  egg-froth, 
over  the  mystic  land  of  the  old  gods, — the 
terrible  land  filled  with  dark  secrets  as  yet 
unexplored, — the  land  "shadowing  with 
wings,"  as  the  Bible  hath  it, — the  land  in 
which  are  buried  tremendous  histories  as  yet 
unguessed, — profound  enigmas  of  the  super- 
natural,— labyrinths  of  wonder,  terror  and 
mystery, — all  of  which  remain  unrevealed  to 

2 


1 8  ZISKA 

the  giddy-pated,  dancing,  dining,  gabbling 
throng  of  the  fashionable  travelling  lunatics 
of  the  day, — the  people  who  "  never  think 
because  it  is  too  much  trouble,"  people 
whose  one  idea  is  to  journey  from  hotel  to 
hotel  and  compare  notes  with  their  acquaint- 
ances afterwards  as  to  which  house  provided 
them  with  the  best-cooked  food.  For  it  is 
a  noticeable  fact  that  with  most  visitors  to 
the  "  show  "  places  of  Europe  and  the  East, 
food,  bedding  and  selfish  personal  comfort 
are  the  first  considerations, — the  scenery  and 
the  associations  come  last.  Formerly  the 
position  was  reversed.  In  the  days  when 
there  were  no  railways,  and  the  immortal 
Byron  wrote  his  Childe  Harold,  it  was  cus- 
tomary to  rate  personal  inconvenience 
lightly;  the  beautiful  or  historic  scene  was 
the  attraction  for  the  traveller,  and  not  the 
arrangements  made  for  his  special  form  of 
digestive  apparatus.  Byron  could  sleep  on 
the  deck  of  a  sailing  vessel  wrapped  in  his 
cloak  and  feel  none  the  worse  for  it ;  his 
well-braced  mind  and  aspiring  spirit  soared 
above  all  bodily  discomforts  ;  his  thoughts 
were  engrossed  with  the  mighty  teachings  of 
time ;  he  was  able  to  lose  himself  in  glorious 
reveries  on  the  lessons  of  the  past  and  the 
possibilities  of  the  future  ;  the  attitude  of 


ZISKA  19 

the  inspired  Thinker  as  well  as  Poet  was  his, 
and  a  crust  of  bread  and  cheese  served  him 
as  sufficiently  on  his  journeyings  among 
the  then  unspoilt  valleys  and  mountains  of 
Switzerland  as  the  warm,  greasy,  indigest- 
ible fare  of  the  elaborate  table-cThdtes  at 
Lucerne  and  Interlaken  serve  us  now.  But 
we,  in  our  "  superior  "  condition,  pooh-pooh 
the  Byronic  spirit  of  indifference  to  events 
and  scorn  of  trifles, — we  say  it  is  "  melo- 
dramatic," completely  forgetting  that  our 
attitude  towards  ourselves  and  things  in 
general  is  one  of  most  pitiable  bathos.  We 
cannot  write  Childe  Harold,  but  we  can 
grumble  at  both  bed  and  board  in  every 
hotel  under  the  sun  ;  we  can  discover  teas- 
ing midges  in  the  air  and  questionable  in- 
sects in  the  rooms ;  and  we  can  discuss  each 
bill  presented  to  us  with  an  industrious  per- 
sistence which  nearly  drives  landlords  frantic 
and  ourselves  as  well.  In  these  kind  of  im- 
portant matters  we  are  indeed  "  superior  "  to 
Byron  and  other  ranting  dreamers  of  his 
type,  but  we  produce  no  Childe  Harolds, 
and  we  have  come  to  the  strange  pass  of  pre- 
tending that  Don  Juan  is  improper,  while 
we  pore  over  Zola  with  avidity  !  To  such 
a  pitch  has  our  culture  brought  us  !  And, 
like  the  Pharisee  in  the  Testament,  we  thank 


2O  ZISKA 

God  we  are  not  as  others  are.  We  are  glad 
we  are  not  as  the  Arab,  as  the  African,  as 
the  Hindoo ;  we  are  proud  of  our  elephant- 
legs  and  our  dividing  coat-line ;  these  things 
show  we  are  civilized,  and  that  God  approves 
of  us  more  than  any  other  type  of  creature 
ever  created.  We  take  possession  of  nations, 
not  by  thunder  of  war,  but  by  clatter  of  din- 
ner-plates. We  do  not  raise  armies,  we  build 
hotels  ;  and  we  settle  ourselves  in  Egypt  as 
we  do  at  Homburg,  to  dress  and  dine  and 
sleep  and  sniff  contempt  on  all  things  but 
ourselves,  to  such  an  extent  that  we  have 
actually  got  into  the  habit  of  calling  the 
natives  of  the  places  we  usurp  "  foreigners." 
We  are  the  foreigners ;  but  somehow  we 
never  can  see  it.  Wherever  we  condescend 
to  build  hotels,  that  spot  we  consider  ours. 
We  are  surprised  at  the  impertinence  of 
Frankfort  people  who  presume  to  visit 
Homburg  while  we  are  having  our  "  season  " 
there  ;  we  wonder  how  they  dare  do  it  ! 
And,  of  a  truth,  they  seem  amazed  at  their 
own  boldness,  and  creep  shyly  through  the 
Kur-Garten  as  though  fearing  to  be  turned 
out  by  the  custodians.  The  same  thing 
occurs  in  Egypt  ;  we  are  frequently  as- 
tounded at  what  we  call  "  the  impertinence 
of  these  foreigners,"  i.e.  the  natives.  They 


ZISKA  21 

ought  to  be  proud  to  have  us  and  our  ele- 
phant-legs ;  glad  to  see  such  noble  and  beau- 
tiful types  of  civilization  as  the  stout  parvenu 
with  his  pendant  paunch,  and  his  family  of 
gawky  youths  and  maidens  of  the  large- 
toothed,  long-limbed  genus ;  glad  to  see  the 
English  "  mamma,"  who  never  grows  old, 
but  wears  young  hair  in  innocent  curls, 
and  has  her  wrinkles  annually  "massaged" 
out  by  a  Paris  artiste  in  complexion.  The 
Desert-Born,  we  say,  should  be  happy  and 
grateful  to  see  such  sights,  and  not  demand 
so  much  "  backsheesh."  In  fact,  the  Desert- 
Born  should  not  get  so  much  in  our  way  as 
he  does  ;  he  is  a  very  good  servant,  of  course, 
but  as  a  man  and  a  brother — pooh  !  Egypt 
may  be  his  country,  and  he  may  love  it  as 
much  as  we  love  England  ;  but  our  feelings 
are  more  to  be  considered  than  his,  and  there 
is  no  connecting  link  of  human  sympathy 
between  Elephant-Legs  and  sun-browned 
Nudity ! 

So  at  least  thought  Sir  Chetwynd  Lyle,  a 
stout  gentleman  of  coarse  build  and  coarser 
physiognomy,  as  he  sat  in  a  deep  arm-chair 
in  the  great  hall  or  lounge  of  the  Gezireh 
Palace  Hotel,  smoking  after  dinner  in  the 
company  of  two  or  three  acquaintances  with 
whom  he  had  fraternized  during  his  stay  in 


22  ZISKA 

Cairo.  Sir  Chetwynd  was  fond  of  airing  his 
opinions  for  the  benefit  of  as  many  people 
who  cared  to  listen  to  him,  and  Sir  Chetwynd 
had  some  right  to  his  opinions,  inasmuch  as 
he  was  the  editor  and  proprietor  of  a  large 
London  newspaper.  His  knighthood  was 
quite  a  recent  distinction,  and  nobody  knew 
exactly  how  he  had  managed  to  get  it.  He 
had  originally  been  known  in  Fleet  Street 
by  the  irreverent  sobriquet  of  "  greasy  Chet- 
wynd," owing  to  his  largeness,  oiliness  and 
general  air  of  blandly-meaningless  benev- 
olence. He  had  a  wife  and  two  daughters, 
and  one  of  his  objects  in  wintering  at  Cairo 
was  to  get  his  cherished  children  married. 
It  was  time,  for  the  bloom  was  slightly  off 
the  fair  girl-roses, — the  dainty  petals  of  the 
delicate  buds  were  beginning  to  wither. 
And  Sir  Chetwynd  had  heard  much  of  Cairo  ; 
he  understood  that  there  was  a  great  deal 
of  liberty  allowed  there  between  men  and 
maids, — that  they  went  out  together  on 
driving  excursions  to  the  Pyramids,  that 
they  rode  on  lilliputian  donkeys  over  the 
sand  at  moonlight,  that  they  floated  about 
in  boats  at  evening  on  the  Nile,  and  that, 
in  short,  there  were  more  opportunities  of 
marriage  among  the  "  flesh-pots  of  Egypt " 
than  in  all  the  rush  and  crush  of  London. 


ZISKA  23 

So  here  he  was,  portly  and  comfortable,  and 
on  the  whole  well  satisfied  with  his  expedi- 
tion ;  there  were  a  good  many  eligible  bach- 
elors about,  and  Muriel  and  Dolly  were  really 
doing  their  best.  So  was  their  mother,  Lady 
Chetwynd  Lyle ;  she  allowed  no  "eligible  " 
to  escape  her  hawk-like  observation,  and  on 
this  particular  evening  she  was  in  all  her 
glory,  for  there  was  to  be  a  costume  ball  at 
the  Gezireh  Palace  Hotel, — a  superb  affair, 
organized  by  the  proprietors  for  the  amuse- 
ment of  their  paying  guests,  who  certainly 
paid  well, — even  stiffly.  Owing  to  the  prep- 
arations that  were  going  on  for  this  festivity, 
the  lounge,  with  its  sumptuous  Egyptian 
decorations  and  luxurious  modern  fittings, 
was  well-nigh  deserted  save  for  Sir  Chetwynd 
and  his  particular  group  of  friends,  to  whom 
he  was  holding  forth,  between  slow  cigar- 
puffs,  on  the  squalor  of  the  Arabs,  the  fright- 
ful thievery  of  the  Sheiks,  the  incompetency 
of  his  own  special  dragoman,  and  the  mis- 
take people  made  in  thinking  the  Egyptians 
themselves  a  fine  race. 

"  They  are  tall,  certainly,"  said  Sir  Chet- 
wynd, surveying  his  paunch,  which  lolled 
comfortably,  and  as  it  were  by  itself,  in  front 
of  him,  like  a  kind  of  waistcoated  air-balloon. 
"  I  grant  you  they  are  tall.  That  is,  the 


24  ZISKA 

majority  of  them  are.  But  I  have  seen  short 
men  among  them.  The  Khedive  is  not 
taller  than  I  am.  And  the  Egyptian  face 
is  very  deceptive.  The  features  are  often 
fine, — occasionally  classic, — but  intelligent 
expression  is  totally  lacking." 

Here  Sir  Chetwynd  waved  his  cigar  de- 
scriptively, as  though  he  would  fain  suggest 
that  a  heavy  jaw,  a  fat  nose  with  a  pimple  at 
the  end,  and  a  gross  mouth  with  black  teeth 
inside  it,  which  were  special  points  in  his 
own  physiognomy,  went  further  to  make 
up  "  intelligent  expression  "  than  any  well- 
moulded,  straight,  Eastern  type  of  sun- 
browned  countenance  ever  seen  or  imagined. 

"  Well,  I  don't  quite  agree  with  you  there," 
said  a  man  who  was  lying  full  length  on  one 
of  the  divans  close  by  and  smoking.  "  These 
brown  chaps  have  deuced  fine  eyes.  There 
doesn't  seem  to  be  any  lack  of  expression  in 
them.  And  that  reminds  me,  there  is  at 
fellow  arrived  here  to-day  who  looks  for  all 
the  world  like  an  Egyptian,  of  the  best  form. 
He  is  a  Frenchman,  though  ;  a  Provencal, 
— every  one  knows  him, — he  is  the  famous 
painter,  Armand  Gervase." 

"  Indeed  ! " — and  Sir  Chetwynd  roused 
himself  at  the  name — "  Armand  Gervase  ! 
The  Armand  Gervase  ?  " 


ZISKA  25 

"  The  only  one  original,"  laughed  the  other. 
"  He's  come  here  to  make  studies  of  Eastern 
women.  A  rare  old  time  he'll  have  among 
them,  I  daresay !  He's  not  famous  for 
character.  He  ought  to  paint  the  Princess 
Ziska." 

"  Ah,  by-the-bye,  I  wanted  to  ask  you 
about  that  lady.  Does  anyone  know  who 
she  is?  My  wife  is  very  anxious  to  find  out 
whether  she  is — well — er — quite  the  proper 
person,  you  know !  When  one  has  young 
girls,  one  cannot  be  too  careful." 

Ross  Courtney,  the  man  on  the  divan,  got 
up  slowly  and  stretched  his  long  athletic 
limbs  with  a  lazy  enjoyment  in  the  action. 
He  was  a  sporting  person  with  unhampered 
means  and  large  estates  in  Scotland  and  Ire- 
land ;  he  lived  a  joyous,  "  don't-care  "  life  of 
wandering  about  the  world  in  search  of  ad- 
ventures, and  he  had  a  scorn  of  civilized 
conventionalities — newspapers  and  their  edi- 
tors among  them.  And  whenever  Sir  Chet- 
wynd  spoke  of  his  "  young  girls "  he  was 
moved  to  irreverent  smiling,  as  he  knew  the 
youngest  of  the  twain  was  at  least  thirty. 
He  also  recognized  and  avoided  the  wily 
traps  and  pitfalls  set  for  him  by  Lady  Chet- 
wynd  Lyle  in  the  hope  that  he  would  yield 
himself  up  a  captive  to  the  charms  of  Muriel 


26  ZISKA 

or  Dolly ;  and  as  he  thought  of  these  two 
fair  ones  now  and  involuntarily  compared 
them  in  his  mind  with  the  other  woman 
just  spoken  of,  the  smile  that  had  begun  to 
hover  on  his  lips  deepened  unconsciously 
till  his  handsome  face  was  quite  illumined 
with  its  mirth. 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  don't  think  it  matters 
who  anybody  is  in  Cairo !  "  he  said  with  a 
fine  carelessness.  "  The  people  whose  fami- 
lies are  all  guaranteed  respectable  are  more 
lax  in  their  behavior  than  the  people  one 
knows  nothing  about.  As  for  the  Princess 
Ziska,  her  extraordinary  beauty  and  intelli- 
gence would  give  her  the  entree  anywhere — 
even  if  she  hadn't  money  to  back  those 
qualities  up." 

"  She's  enormously  wealthy,  I  hear,"  said 
young  Lord  Fulkeward,  another  of  the 
languid  smokers,  caressing  his  scarcely  per- 
ceptible moustache.  "My  mother  thinks 
she  is  a  divorcee" 

Sir  Chetwynd  looked  very  serious,  and 
shook  his  fat  head  solemnly. 

"  Well,  there  is  nothing  remarkable  in  be- 
ing divorced,  you  know,"  laughed  Ross 
Courtney.  "  Nowadays  it  seems  the  natural 
and  fitting  end  of  marriage." 

Sir   Chetwynd    looked   graver   still.     He 


ZISKA  27 

refused  to  be  drawn  into  this  kind  of  flip- 
pant conversation.  He,  at  any  rate,  was 
respectably  married;  he  had  no  sympathy 
whatever  with  the  larger  majority  of  people 
whose  marriages  were  a  failure. 

"  There  is  no  Prince  Ziska  then  ?  "  he  in- 
quired. "  The  name  sounds  to  me  of  Russian 
origin,  and  I  imagined — my  wife  also  im- 
agined,— that  the  husband  of  the  lady  might 
very  easily  be  in  Russia  while  his  wife's 
health  might  necessitate  her  wintering  in 
Egypt.  The  Russian  winter  climate  is  incle- 
ment, I  believe." 

"  That  would  be  a  very  neat  arrangement," 
yawned  Lord  Fulkeward.  "  But  my  mother 
thinks  not.  My  mother  thinks  there  is  not 
a  husband  at  all, — that  there  never  was  a 
husband.  In  fact  my  mother  has  very  strong 
convictions  on  the  subject.  But  my  mother 
intends  to  visit  her  all  the  same." 

"  She  does  ?  Lady  Fulkeward  has  decided 
on  that  ?  Oh,  well,  in  that  case !  " — and  Sir 
Chetwynd  expanded  his  lower-chest  air- 
balloon.  '*  Of  course,  Lady  Chetwynd  Lyle 
can  no  longer  have  any  scruples  on  the  sub- 
ject. If  Lady  Fulkeward  visits  the  Princess 
there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  her  actual  status." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  ! "  murmured  Lord 
Fulkeward,  stroking  his  downy  lip.  "  You 


28  ZISKA 

see  my  mother's  rather  an  exceptional  per- 
son. When  the  governor  was  alive  she 
hardly  ever  went  out  anywhere,  you  know, 
and  all  the  people  who  came  to  our  house  in 
Yorkshire  had  to  bring  their  pedigrees  with 
them,  so  to  speak.  It  was  beastly  dull! 
But  now  my  mother  has  taken  to  '  studying 
character,'  don'cher  know ;  she  likes  all  sorts 
of  people  about  her,  and  the  more  mixed 
they  are  the  more  she  is  delighted  with 
them.  Fact,  I  assure  you  !  Quite  a  change 
has  come  over  my  mother  since  the  poor  old 
governor  died !  " 

Ross  Courtney  looked  amused.  A  change 
indeed  had  come  over  Lady  Fulkeward — a 
change,  sudden,  mysterious  and  amazing  to 
many  of  her  former  distinguished  friends 
with  "  pedigrees."  In  her  husband's  life- 
time her  hair  had  been  a  soft  silver-gray  ; 
her  face  pale,  refined  and  serious ;  her  form 
full  and  matronly ;  her  step  sober  and  dis- 
creet ;  but  two  years  after  the  death  of  the 
kindly  and  noble  old  lord  who  had  cherished 
her  as  the  apple  of  his  eye  and  up  to  the 
last  moment  of  his  breath  had  thought  her 
the  most  beautiful  woman  in  England,  she 
appeared  with  golden  tresses,  a  peach-bloom 
complexion,  and  a  figure  which  had  been  so 
massaged,  rubbed,  pressed  and  artistically 


ZISKA  29 

corseted  as  to  appear  positively  sylph-like. 
She  danced  like  a  fairy,  she  who  had  once 
been  called  "  old  "  Lady  Fulkeward ;  she 
smoked  cigarettes  ;  she  laughed  like  a  child 
at  every  trivial  thing — any  joke,  however 
stale,  flat  and  unprofitable,  was  sufficient  to 
stir  her  light  pulses  to  merriment ;  and  she 
flirted — oh,  heavens  ! — how  she  flirted  ! — 
with  a  skill  and  a  grace  and  a  knowledge 
and  an  aplomb  that  nearly  drove  Muriel  and 
Dolly  Chetwynd  Lyle  frantic.  They,  poor 
things,  were  beaten  out  of  the  field  alto- 
gether by  her  superior  tact  and  art  of 
"fence,"  and  they  hated  her  accordingly 
and  called  her  in  private  a  "horrid  old 
woman,"  which  perhaps,  when  her  maid  un- 
dressed her,  she  was.  But  .she  was  having  a 
distinctly  "good  time"  in  Cairo;  she  called 
her  son,  who  was  in  delicate  health,  "  my 
poor  dear  little  boy  !  "  and  he,  though  twen- 
ty-eight on  his  last  birthday,  was  reduced  to 
such  an  abject  condition  of  servitude  by  her 
assertiveness,  impudent  gayety  and  general 
freedom  of  manner,  that  he  could  not  open 
his  mouth  without  alluding  to  "  my  mother," 
and  using  "  my  mother  "  as  a  peg  whereon 
to  hang  all  his  own  opinions  and  emotions 
as  well  as  the  opinions  and  emotions  of 
other  people. 


30  ZISKA 

"  Lady  Fulkeward  admires  the  Princess 
very  much,  I  believe?"  said  another  lounger 
who  had  not  yet  spoken. 

"  Oh,  as  to  that !  " — and  Lord  Fulkeward 
roused  himself  to  some  faint  show  of  energy. 
"  Who  wouldn't  admire  her  ?  By  Jove ! 
Only,  I  tell  you  what — there's  something 
weird  about  her  eyes.  Fact !  I  don't  like 
her  eyes." 

"  Shut  up,  Fulke !  She  has  beautiful 
eyes !  "  burst  out  Courtney,  hotly ;  then 
flushing  suddenly  he  bit  his  lips  and  was 
silent. 

"Who  is  this  that  has  beautiful  eyes?" 
suddenly  demanded  a  slow,  gruff  voice,  and 
a  little  thin  gentleman,  dressed  in  a  kind  of 
academic  gown  and  cap,  appeared  on  the 
scene. 

"  Hullo  !  here's  our  F.R.S.A. !  "  exclaimed 
Lord  Fulkeward.  "  By  Jove  !  Is  that  the 
style  you  have  got  yourself  up  in  for  to- 
night ?  It  looks  awfully  smart,  don'cher 
know ! " 

The  personage  thus  complimented  ad- 
justed his  spectacles  and  surveyed  his  ac- 
quaintances with  a  very  well-satisfied  air.  In 
truth,  Dr.  Maxwell  Dean  had  some  reason 
for  self-satisfaction,  if  the  knowledge  that 
he  possessed  one  of  the  cleverest  heads  in 


ZISKA  31 

Europe  could  give  a  man  cause  for  pride. 
He  was  apparently  the  only  individual  in 
the  Gezireh  Palace  Hotel  who  had  come  to 
Egypt  for  any  serious  purpose.  A  purpose 
he  had,  though  what  it  was  he  declined  to 
explain.  Reticent,  often  brusque,  and  some- 
times mysterious  in  his  manner  of  speech, 
there  was  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  he 
was  at  work  on  something,  and  that  he  also 
had  a  very  trying  habit  of  closely  studying 
every  object,  small  or  great,  that  came 
under  his  observation.  He  studied  the 
natives  to  such  an  extent  that  he  knew 
every  differing  shade  of  color  in  their  skins ; 
he  studied  Sir  Chetwynd  Lyle  and  knew 
that  he  occasionally  took  bribes  to  "  put 
things  "  into  his  paper  ;  he  studied  Dolly 
and  Muriel  Chetwynd  Lyle,  and  knew  that 
they  would  never  succeed  in  getting  hus- 
bands ;  he  studied  Lady  Fulkeward,  and 
thought  her  very  well  got  up  for  sixty ;  he 
studied  Ross  Courtney,  and  knew  he  would 
never  do  anything  but  kill  animals  all  his 
life  ;  and  he  studied  the  working  of  the 
Gezireh  Palace  Hotel,  and  saw  a  fortune  ris- 
ing out  of  it  for  the  proprietors.  But  apart 
from  these  ordinary  surface  things,  he  studied 
other  matters — "  occult  "  peculiarities  of  tem- 
perament, "  coincidences,"  strange  occur- 


32  ZISKA 

rences  generally.  He  could  read  the  Egyp- 
tian hieroglyphs  perfectly,  and  he  under- 
stood the  difference  between  "  royal  car- 
touche "  scarabei  and  Birmingham-manufac- 
tured ones.  He  was  never  dull ;  he  had 
plenty  to  do  ;  and  he  took  everything  as  it 
came  in  its  turn.  Even  the  costume  ball  for 
which  he  had  now  attired  himself  did  not 
present  itself  to  him  as  a  "  bore,"  but  as  a 
new  vein  of  information,  opening  to  him  fresh 
glimpses  of  the  genus  homo  as  seen  in  a  state 
of  eccentricity. 

"  I  think,"  he  now  said,  complacently, 
"  that  the  cap  and  gown  look  well  for  a  man 
of  my  years.  It  is  a  simple  garb,  but  cool, 
convenient  and  not  unbecoming.  I  had 
thought  at  first  of  adopting  the  dress  of  an 
ancient  Egyptian  priest,  but  I  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  secure  the  complete  outfit.  I  would 
never  wear  a  costume  of  the  kind  that  was 
not  in  every  point  historically  correct. 

No  one  smiled.  No  one  would  have  dared 
to  smile  at  Dr.  Maxwell  Dean  when  he  spoke 
of  "  historically  correct "  things.  He  had 
studied  them  as  he  had  studied  everything, 
and  he  knew  all  about  them. 

Sir  Chetwynd  murmured  : 

"  Quite  right — er — the  ancient  designs 
were  very  elaborate " 


ZISKA  33 

"  And  symbolic,"  finished  Dr.  Dean. 
"  Symbolic  of  very  curious  meanings,  I  as- 
sure you.  But  I  fear  I  have  interrupted 
your  talk.  Mr.  Courtney  was  speaking  about 
somebody's  beautiful  eyes  ;  who  is  the  fair 
one  in  question?  " 

"  The  Princess  Ziska,"  said  Lord  Fulke- 
ward.  "  I  was  saying  that  I  don't  quite  like 
the  look  of  her  eyes." 

"  Why  not  ?  Why  not  ?  "  demanded  the 
doctor  with  sudden  asperity.  "  What's  the 
matter  with  them  ?  " 

"  Everything's  the  matter  with  them  !  " 
replied  Ross  Courtney  with  a  forced  laugh. 
"  They  are  too  splendid  and  wild  for  Fulke ; 
he  likes  the  English  pale-blue  better  than 
the  Egyptian  gazelle-black." 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Lord  Fulkeward, 
speaking  more  animatedly  than  was  custom- 
ary with  him.  "  I  hate,  pale-blue  eyes.  I 
prefer  soft  violet-gray  ones,  like  Miss 
Murray's." 

"  Miss  Helen  Murray  is  a  very  charming 
young  lady,"  said  Dr.  Dean.  "  But  her 
beauty  is  quite  of  an  ordinary  type,  while 
that  of  the  Princess  Ziska " 

"  Is  extra-ordinary — exactly !  That's  just 
what  I  say  !  "  declared  Courtney.  "  I  think 
she  is  the  loveliest  woman  I  have  ever  seen." 
3 


34  ZISKA 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  the  little 
doctor  looked  with  a  ferret-like  curiosity 
from  one  man  to  the  other.  Sir  Chetwynd 
Lyle  rose  ponderously  up  from  the  depths 
of  his  arm-chair. 

"  I  think,"  said  he,  "  I  had  better  go  and 
get  into  my  uniform — the  Windsor,  you 
know  !  I  always  have  it  with  me  wherever 
I  go  ;  it  comes  in  very  useful  for  fancy  balls 
such  as  the  one  we  are  going  to  have  to- 
night, when  no  particular  period  is  observed 
in  costume.  Isn't  it  about  time  we  all  got 
ready  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  life,  I  think  it  is  !  "  agreed 
Lord  Fulkeward.  "  I  am  coming  out  as  a 
Neapolitan  fisherman  !  I  don't  believe  Nea- 
politan fishermen  ever  really  dress  in  the 
way  I'm  going  to  make  up,  but  it's  the  ac- 
cepted stage-type,  don'cher  know." 

"  Ah !  I  daresay  you  will  look  very  well 
in  it,"  murmured  Ross  Courtney,  vaguely. 
"  Hullo  !  here  comes  Denzil  Murray !  " 

They  all  turned  instinctively  to  watch  the 
entrance  of  a  handsome  young  man,  attired 
in  the  picturesque  garb  worn  by  Florentine 
nobles  during  the  prosperous  reign  of  the 
Medicis.  It  was  a  costume  admirably  adapt- 
ed to  the  wearer,  who,  being  grave  and 
almost  stern  of  feature,  needed  the  bright- 


ZISKA  35 

ness  of  jewels  and  the  gloss  of  velvet  and  satin 
to  throw  out  the  classic  contour  of  his  fine 
head  and  enhance  the  lustre  of  his  brooding, 
darkly-passionate  eyes.  Denzil  Murray  was 
a  pure-blooded  Highlander, — the  level  brows, 
the  firm  lips,  the  straight,  fearless  look,  all 
bespoke  him  a  son  of  the  heather-crowned 
mountains  and  a  descendant  of  the  proud 
races  that  scorned  the  "  Sassenach,"  and 
retained  sufficient  of  the  material  whereof 
their  early  Phoenician  ancestors  were  made 
to  be  capable  of  both  the  extremes  of  hate 
and  love  in  their  most  potent  forms.  He 
moved  slowly  towards  the  group  of  men 
awaiting  his  approach  with  a  reserved  air  of 
something  like  hauteur ;  it  was  possible  he 
was  conscious  of  his  good  looks,  but  it  was 
equally  evident  that  he  did  not  desire  to  be 
made  the  object  of  impertinent  remark.  His 
friends  silently  recognized  this,  and  only 
Lord  Fulkeward,  moved  to  a  mild  transport 
of  admiration,  ventured  to  comment  on  his 
appearance. 

"  I  say,  Denzil,  you're  awfully  well  got  up  ! 
Awfully  well !  Magnificent !  " 

Denzil  Murray  bowed  with  a  somewhat 
wearied  and  sarcastic  air. 

"When  one  is  in  Rome,  or  Egypt,  one 
must  do  as  Rome,  or  Egypt,  does,"  he 


36  ZISKA 

said,  carelessly.  "  If  hotel  proprietors  will 
give  fancy  balls,  it  is  necessary  to  rise  to 
the  occasion.  You  look  very  well,  Doctor. 
Why  don't  you  other  fellows  go  and  get 
your  toggeries  on?  It's  past  ten  o'clock, 
and  the  Princess  Ziska  will  be  here  by 
eleven." 

"There  are  other  people  coming  besides 
the  Princess  Ziska,  are  there  not,  Mr. 
Murray  ?  "  inquired  Sir  Chetwynd  Lyle, 
with  an  obtrusively  bantering  air. 

Denzil  Murray  glanced  him  over  disdain- 
fully. 

"  I  believe  there  are,"  he  answered  coolly. 
"  Otherwise  the  ball  would  scarcely  pay  its 
expenses.  But  as  the  Princess  is  admittedly 
the  most  beautiful  woman  in  Cairo  this 
season,  she  will  naturally  be  the  centre  of 
attraction.  That's  why  I  mentioned  she 
would  be  here  at  eleven." 

"  She  told  you  that  ?  "  inquired  Ross 
Courtney. 

"  She  did." 

Courtney  looked  up,  then  down,  and 
seemed  about  to  speak  again,  but  checked 
himself  and  finally  strolled  off,  followed  by 
Lord  Fulkeward. 

"  I  hear,"  said  Dr.  Dean  then,  addressing 
Denzil  Murray,  "  that  a  great  celebrity  has 


ZISKA  37 

arrived  at  this  hotel — the  painter,  Armand 
Gervase." 

Denzil's  face  brightened  instantly  with  a 
pleasant  smile. 

"  The  dearest  friend  I  have  in  the  world  !  " 
he  said.  "  Yes,  he  is  here.  I  met  him  out- 
side the  door  this  afternoon.  We  are  very 
old  chums.  I  have  stayed  with  him  in  Paris, 
and  he  has  stayed  with  me  in  Scotland.  A 
charming  fellow  !  He  is  very  French  in  his 
ideas  ;  but  he  knows  England  well,  and  speaks 
English  perfectly." 

"  French  in  his  ideas  !  "  echoed  Sir 
Chetwynd  Lyle,  who  was  just  preparing  to 
leave  the  lounge.  "Dear  me!  How  is 
that?" 

"  He  is  a  Frenchman,"  said  Dr.  Dean, 
suavely.  "  Therefore  that  his  ideas  should 
be  French  ought  not  to  be  a  matter  of  sur- 
prise to  us,  my  dear  Sir  Chetwynd." 

Sir  Chetwynd  snorted.  He  had  a  sus- 
picion that  he — the  editor  and  proprietor  of 
the  Daily  Dial — was  being  laughed  at,  and 
he  at  once  clambered  on  his  high  horse  of 
British  Morality. 

"  Frenchman  or  no  Frenchman,"  he  ob- 
served, "  the  ideas  promulgated  in  France 
at  the  present  day  are  distinctly  profane  and 
pernicious.  There  is  a  lack  of  principle — a 


38  ZISKA 

want  of  rectitude  in — er — the  French  Press, 
for  example,  that  is  highly  deplorable." 

"  And  is  the  English  Press  immaculate  ?  " 
asked  Denzil  languidly. 

"  We  hope  so,"  replied  Sir  Chetwynd. 
"  We  do  our  best  to  make  it  so." 

And  with  that  remark  he  took  his  paunch 
and  himself  away  into  retirement,  leaving 
Dr.  Dean  and  young  Murray  facing  each 
other,  a  singular  pair  enough  in  the  contrast 
of  their  appearance  and  dress, — the  one 
small,  lean  and  wiry,  in  plain-cut,  loose- 
flowing  academic  gown  ;  the  other  tall, 
broad  and  muscular,  clad  in  the  rich  attire 
of  mediaeval  Florence,  and  looking  for  all 
the  world  like  a  fine  picture  of  that  period 
stepped  out  from  its  frame.  There  was  a 
silence  between  them  for  a  moment, — then 
the  Doctor  spoke  in  a  low  tone : 

"  It  won't  do,  my  dear  boy, — I  assure  you 
it  won't  do !  You  will  break  your  heart 
over  a  dream,  and  make  yourself  miserable 
for  nothing.  And  you  will  break  your 
sister's  heart  as  well ;  perhaps  you  haven't 
thought  of  that  ?  " 

Denzil  flung  himself  into  the  chair  Sir 
Chetwynd  had  just  vacated,  and  gave  vent 
to  a  sigh  that  was  almost  a  groan. 

"Helen    doesn't    know    anything — yet," 


ZISKA  39 

he  said  hoarsely.  "  I  know  nothing  myself  ; 
how  can  I  ?  I  haven't  said  a  word  to — to 
her.  If  I  spoke  all  that  was  in  my  mind,  I 
daresay  she  would  laugh  at  me.  You  are 
the  only  one  who  has  guessed  my  secret. 
You  saw  me  last  night  when  I — when  I  ac- 
companied her  home.  But  I  never  passed 
her  palace  gates, — she  wouldn't  let  me.  She 
bade  me  '  good-night '  outside  ;  a  servant 
admitted  her,  and  she  vanished  through  the 
portal  like  a  witch  or  a  ghost.  Sometimes 
I  fancy  she  is  a  ghost.  She  is  so  white,  so 
light,  so  noiseless  and  so  lovely  ! " 

He  turned  his  eyes  away,  ashamed  of  the 
emotion  that  moved  him.  Dr.  Maxwell 
Dean  took  off  his  academic  cap  and  ex- 
amined its  interior  as  though  he  considered 
it  remarkable. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  slowly  ;  "  I  have  thought 
the  same  thing  of  her  myself — sometimes." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by 
the  entrance  of  the  military  band  of  the 
evening,  which  now  crossed  the  "lounge," 
each  man  carrying  his  instrument  with  him  ; 
and  these  were  followed  by  several  groups 
of  people  in  fancy  dress,  all  ready  and  eager 
for  the  ball.  Pierrots  and  Pierrettes,  monks 
in  drooping  cowls,  flower-girls,  water-car- 
riers, symbolic  figures  of  "  Night "  and 


40  ZISKA 

"  Morning,"  mingled  with  the  counterfeit 
presentments  of  dead-and-gone  kings  and 
queens,  began  to  flock  together,  laughing 
and  talking  on  their  way  to  the  ball-room  ; 
and  presently  among  them  came  a  man 
whose  superior  height  and  build,  combined 
with  his  eminently  picturesque,  half-savage 
type  of  beauty,  caused  every  one  to  turn 
and  watch  him  as  he  passed,  and  murmur 
whispering  comments  on  the  various  qualities 
wherein  he  differed  from  themselves.  He 
was  attired  for  the  occasion  as  a  Bedouin 
chief,  and  his  fierce  black  eyes,  and  close- 
curling,  dark  hair,  combined  with  the  nat- 
ural olive  tint  of  his  complexion,  were  well 
set  off  by  the  snowy  folds  of  his  turban  and 
the  whiteness  of  his  entire  costume,  which 
was  unrelieved  by  any  color  save  at  the  waist, 
where  a  gleam  of  scarlet  was  shown  in  the 
sash  which  helped  to  fasten  a  murderous- 
looking  dagger  and  other  "  correct  "  weap- 
ons of  attack  to  his  belt.  He  entered  the 
hall  with  a  swift  and  singularly  light  step, 
and  made  straight  for  Denzil  Murray. 

"  Ah  !  here  you  are  !  "  he  said,  speaking 
English  with  a  slight  foreign  accent,  which 
was  more  agreeable  to  the  ear  than  other- 
wise. "  But,  my  excellent  boy,  what  mag- 
nificence !  A  Medici  costume !  Never  say 


ZISKA  41 

to  me  that  you  are  not  vain  ;  you  are  as 
conscious  of  your  good  looks  as  any  pretty 
woman.  Behold  me,  how  simple  and  unob- 
trusive I  am ! " 

He  laughed,  and  Murray  sprang  up  from 
the  chair  where  he  had  been  despondently 
reclining. 

"  Oh,  come,  I  like  that !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Simple  and  unobtrusive  !  Why  everybody 
is  staring  at  you  now  as  if  you  had  dropped 
from  the  moon  !  You  cannot  be  Armand 
Gervase  and  simple  and  unobtrusive  at  the 
same  time !  " 

"Why  not?"  demanded  Gervase,  lightly. 
"  Fame  is  capricious,  and  her  trumpet  is  not 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  all  over  the  world 
at  once.  The  venerable  proprietor  of  the 
dirty  bazaar  where  I  managed  to  purchase 
these  charming  articles  of  Bedouin  costume 
had  never  heard  of  me  in  his  life.  Miserable 
man!  He  does  not  know  what  he  has 
missed !  " 

Here  his  flashing  black  eyes  lit  suddenly 
on  Dr.  Dean,  who  was  "  studying  "  him  in 
the  same  sort  of  pertinacious  way  in  which 
that  learned  little  man  studied  everything. 

"  A  friend  of  yours,  Denzil  ? "  he  in- 
quired. 

"  Yes,"  responded    Murray  readily  ;    "  a 


42  ZISKA 

very  great  friend — Dr.  Maxwell  Dean.  Dr. 
Dean,  let  me  introduce  to  you  Armand  Ger- 
vase  ;  I  need  not  explain  him  further !  " 

"  You  need  not,  indeed  !  "  said  the  doctor, 
with  a  ceremonious  bow.  "  The  name  is 
one  of  universal  celebrity." 

"  It  is  not  always  an  advantage — this  uni- 
versal celebrity,"  replied  Gervase.  "  Nor 
is  it  true  that  any  celebrity  is  actually  univer- 
sal. Perhaps  the  only  living  person  that  is 
universally  known,  by  name  at  least,  is  Zola. 
Mankind  are  at  one  in  their  appreciation  of 
vice." 

"  I  cannot  altogether  agree  with  you 
there,"  said  Dr.  Dean  slowly,  keeping  his 
gaze  fixed  on  the  artist's  bold,  proud  features 
with  singular  curiosity.  "  The  French  Acad- 
emy, I  presume,  are  individually  as  appre- 
ciative of  human  weaknesses  as  most  men ; 
but  taken  collectively,  some  spirit  higher 
and  stronger  than  their  own  keeps  them 
unanimous  in  their  rejection  of  the  notorious 
Realist  who  sacrifices  all  the  canons  of  art 
and  beauty  to  the  discussion  of  topics  un- 
mentionable in  decent  society." 

Gervase  laughed  idly. 

"  Oh,  he  will  get  in  some  day,  you  may 
be  sure,"  he  answered.  "  There  is  no  spirit 
higher  and  stronger  than  the  spirit  of  natural- 


ZISKA  43 

ism  in  man ;  and  in  time,  when  a  few  prej- 
udices have  died  away  and  mawkish  senti- 
ment has  been  worn  threadbare,  Zola  will 
be  enrolled  as  the  first  of  the  French  Aca- 
demicians, with  even  more  honors  than  if  he 
had  succeeded  in  the  beginning.  That  is 
the  way  of  all  those  '  select '  bodies.  As 
Napoleon  said,  '  Le  monde  ment  a  celui  qui 
salt  attendre!  " 

The  little  Doctor's  countenance  now 
showed  the  most  lively  and  eager  interest. 

"  You  quite  believe  that,  Monsieur  Ger- 
vase  ?  You  are  entirely  sure  of  what  you 
said  just  now? " 

"  What  did  I  say  ?  I  forget !  "  smiled 
Gervase,  lighting  a  cigarette  and  beginning 
to  smoke  it  leisurely. 

"  You  said,  '  There  is  no  spirit  higher  or 
stronger  than  the  spirit  of  naturalism  in  man.' 
Are  you  positive  on  this  point  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course !  Most  entirely  posi- 
tive !  "  And  the  great  painter  looked  amused 
as  he  gave  the  reply.  "  Naturalism  is  Nature, 
or  the  things  appertaining  to  Nature,  and 
there  is  nothing  higher  or  stronger  than 
Nature  everywhere  and  anywhere." 

"  How  about  God  ?  "  inquired  Dr.  Dean 
with  a  curious  air,  as  if  he  were  propound- 
ing a  remarkable  conundrum. 


44  ZISKA 

"  God  !  "  Gervase  laughed  loudly.  "  Par- 
don !  Are  you  a  clergyman  ?  " 

"  By  no  means  !  "  and  the  Doctor  gave  a 
little  bow  and  deprecating  smile.  "  I  am 
not  in  any  way  connected  with  the  Church. 
I  am  a  doctor  of  laws  and  literature, — a 
humble  student  of  philosophy  and  science 
generally.  .  ." 

"  Philosophy  !  Science  ! "  interrupted 
Gervase.  "  And  you  ask  about  God  !  Par- 
bleu  /  Science  and  philosophy  have  pro- 
gressed beyond  Him !  " 

"  Exactly  !  "  and  Dr.  Dean  rubbed  his 
hands  together  pleasantly.  "  That  is  your 
opinion  ?  Yes,  I  thought  so  !  Science  and 
philosophy,  to  put  it  comprehensively,  have 
beaten  poor  God  on  His  own  ground  !  Ha ! 
ha !  ha !  Very  good — very  good  !  And 
humorous  as  well !  Ha  !  ha !  " 

And  a  very  droll  appearance  just  then  had 
this  "  humble  student  of  philosophy  and 
science  generally,"  for  he  bent  himself  to 
and  fro  with  laughter,  and  his  small  eyes 
almost  disappeared  behind  his  shelving  brows 
in  the  excess  of  his  mirth.  And  two  cross- 
lines  formed  themselves  near  his  thin  mouth 
— such  lines  as  are  carven  on  the  ancient 
Greek  masks  which  indicate  satire. 

Denzil  Murray  flushed  uncomfortably. 


ZISKA  45 

"  Gervase  doesn't  believe  in  anything  but 
Art,"  he  said,  as  though  half  apologizing  for 
his  friend :  "  Art  is  the  sole  object  of  his  ex- 
istence ;  I  don't  believe  he  ever  has  time  to 
think  about  anything  else." 

"  Of  what  else  should  I  think,  mon  ami?" 
exclaimed  Gervase  mirthfully.  "Of  life? 
It  is  all  Art  to  me  ;  and  by  Art  I  mean  the 
idealization  and  transfiguration  of  Nature." 

"  Oh,  if  you  do  that  sort  of  thing  you  are 
a  romancist,"  interposed  Dr.  Dean  emphati- 
cally. "  Nature  neither  idealizes  nor  trans- 
figures itself  ;  it  is  simply  Nature  and  no 
more.  Matter  uncontrolled  by  Spirit  is  any- 
thing but  ideal." 

"  Precisely,"  answered  Gervase  quickly 
and  with  some  warmth ;  "  but  my  spirit 
idealizes  it, — my  imagination  sees  beyond 
it, — my  soul  grasps  it." 

"Oh,  you  have  a  soul ?"  exclaimed  Dr. 
Dean,  beginning  to  laugh  again.  "  Now, 
how  did  you  find  that  out  ?  " 

Gervase  looked  at  him  in  a  sudden 
surprise. 

"  Every  man  has  an  inward  self,  naturally," 
he  said.  "We  call  it  '  soul '  as  a  figure  of 
speech  ;  it  is  really  temperament  merely." 

"  Oh,  it  is  merely  temperament  ?  Then 
you  don't  think  it  is  likely  to  outlive  you, 


46  ZISKA 

this  soul — to  take  new  phases  upon  itself  and 
go  on  existing,  an  immortal  being,  when  your 
body  is  in  a  far  worse  condition  (because 
less  carefully  preserved)  than  an  Egyptian 
mummy  ? " 

"Certainly  not !  "  and  Gervase  flung  away 
the  end  of  his  finished  cigarette.  "  The  im- 
mortality of  the  soul  is  quite  an  exploded 
theory.  It  was  always  a  ridiculous  one. 
We  have  quite  enough  to  vex  us  in  our 
present  life,  and  why  men, ever  set  about  in- 
venting another  is  more  than  I  am  able  to 
understand.  It  was  a  most  foolish  and  bar- 
baric superstition." 

The  gay  sound  of  music  now  floated  to- 
wards them  from  the  ball-room, — the  strains 
of  a  graceful,  joyous,  half-commanding,  half- 
pleading  waltz  came  rhythmically  beating 
on  the  air  like  the  measured  movement  of 
wings, — and  Denzil  Murray,  beginning  to 
grow  restless,  walked  to  and  fro,  his  eyes 
watching  every  figure  that  crossed  and  re- 
crossed  the  hall.  But  Dr.  Dean's  interest  in 
Armand  Gervase  remained  intense  and  un- 
abated ;  and  approaching  him,  he  laid  two 
lean  fingers  delicately  on  the  white  folds  of 
the  Bedouin  dress  just  where  the  heart  of 
the  man  was  hidden. 

"  '  A  foolish  and  barbaric  superstition  !  ' ' 


ZISKA  47 

he  echoed  slowly  and  meditatively.  "  You 
do  not  believe  in  any  possibility  of  there 
being  a  life — or  several  lives — after  this 
present  death  through  which  we  must  all 
pass  inevitably,  sooner  or  later?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least !  I  leave  such  ideas  to 
the  ignorant  and  uneducated.  I  should  be 
unworthy  of  the  progressive  teachings  of  my 
time  if  I  believed  such  arrant  nonsense." 

"  Death,  you  consider,  finishes  all  ?  There 
is  nothing  further  —  no  mysteries  be- 
yond ?  .  .  .  "  and  Dr.  Dean's  eyes  glittered 
as  he  stretched  forth  one  thin,  slight  hand 
and  pointed  into  space  with  the  word  "  be- 
yond," an  action  which  gave  it  a  curious 
emphasis,  and  for  a  fleeting  second  left  a 
weird  impression  on  even  the  careless  mind 
of  Gervase.  But  he  laughed  it  off  lightly. 

"  Nothing  beyond  ?  Of  course  not !  My 
dear  sir,  why  ask  such  a  question  ?  Nothing 
can  be  plainer  or  more  positive  than  the  fact 
that  death,  as  you  say,  finishes  all." 

A  woman's  laugh,  low  and  exquisitely 
musical,  rippled  on  the  air  as  he  spoke — deli- 
cious laughter,  rarer  than  song  ;  for  women 
as  a  rule  laugh  too  loudly,  and  the  sound  of 
their  merriment  partakes  more  of  the  nature 
of  a  goose's  cackle  than  any  other  sort  of 
natural  melody.  But  this  large,  soft  and 


48  ZISKA 

silvery,  was  like  a  delicately  subdued  cadence 
played  on  a  magic  flute  in  the  distance,  and 
suggested  nothing  but  sweetness  ;  and  at  the 
sound  of  it  Gervase  started  violently  and 
turned  sharply  round  upon  his  friend  Murray 
with  a  look  of  wonderment  and  perplexity. 

"Who  is  that?"  he  demanded.  "  I  have 
heard  that  pretty  laugh  before  ;  it  must  be 
some  one  I  know." 

But  Denzil  scarcely  heard  him.  Pale,  and 
with  eyes  full  of  yearning  and  passion,  he 
was  watching  the  slow  approach  of  a  group 
of  people  in  fancy  dress,  who  were  all  eagerly 
pressing  round  one  central  figure — the  figure 
of  a  woman  clad  in  gleaming  golden  tissues 
and  veiled  in  the  old  Egyptian  fashion  up 
to  the  eyes,  with  jewels  flashing  about  her 
waist,  bosom  and  hair, — a  woman  who  moved 
glidingly  as  if  she  floated  rather  than  walked, 
and  whose  beauty,  half  hidden  as  it  was  by 
the  exigencies  of  the  costume  she  had  chosen, 
was  so  unusual  and  brilliant  that  it  seemed 
to  create  an  atmosphere  of  bewilderment 
and  rapture  around  her  as  she  came.  She 
was  preceded  by  a  small  Nubian  boy  in  a 
costume  of  vivid  scarlet,  who,  walking  back- 
wards humbly,  fanned  her  slowly  with  a  tall 
fan  of  peacock's  plumes  made  after  the  quaint 
designs  of  ancient  Egypt.  The  lustre  radi- 


ZISKA  49 

ating  from  the  peacock's  feathers,  the  light  of 
her  golden  garments,  her  jewels  and  the  mar- 
vellous black  splendor  of  her  eyes,  all  flashed 
for  a  moment  like  sudden  lightning  on 
Gervase ;  something — he  knew  not  what — 
turned  him  giddy  and  blind ;  hardly  knowing 
what  he  did,  he  sprang  eagerly  forward,  when 
all  at  once  he  felt  the  lean,  small  hand  of 
Dr.  Dean  on  his  arm  and  stopped  short 
embarrassed. 

"  Pardon  me !  "  said  the  little  savant,  with 
a  delicate,  half-supercilious  lifting  of  his  eye- 
brows.    "  But— do  you   know  the  Princess 
Ziska  ?  " 
4 


50  ZISKA 


CHAPTER  II. 

GERVASE  stared  at  him,  still  dazzled  and 
confused. 

"  Whom  did  you  say  ?  .  .  .  the  Princess 
Ziska?  .  .  .  No,  I  don't  know  her  .  .  . 
Yet,  stay !  Yes,  I  think  I  have  seen  her  .  .  . 
somewhere, — in  Paris,  possibly.  Will  you 
introduce  me  ?" 

"  I  leave  that  duty  to  Mr.  Denzil  Murray," 
said  the  Doctor,  folding  his  arms  neatly  be- 
hind his  back  ...  "  He  knows  her  better 
than  I  do." 

And  smiling  his  little  grim,  cynical  smile, 
he  settled  his  academic  cap  more  firmly  on 
his  head  and  strolled  off  towards  the  ball- 
room. Gervase  stood  irresolute,  his  eyes 
fixed  on  that  wondrous  golden  figure  that 
floated  before  his  eyes  like  an  aerial  vision. 
Denzil  Murray  had  gone  forward  to  meet  the 
Princess  and  was  now  talking  to  her,  his 
handsome  face  radiating  with  the  admiration 
he  made  no  attempt  to  conceal.  After  a 
little  pause  Gervase  moved  towards  him 


ZISKA  5 1 

a  step  or  two,  and  caught  part  of  the  con- 
versation. 

"  You  look  the  very  beau-ideal  of  an 
Egyptian  Princess,"  Murray  was  saying. 
"  Your  costume  is  perfect." 

She  laughed.  Again  that  sweet,  rare 
laughter !  Gervase  thrilled  with  the  pulsa- 
tion of  it, — it  beat  in  his  ears  and  smote  his 
brain  with  a  strange  echo  of  familiarity. 

"Is  it  not?"  she  responded.  "I  am 
'  historically  correct,'  as  your  friend  Dr. 
Dean  would  say.  My  ornaments  are  genu- 
ine,— they  all  came  out  of  the  same  tomb." 

"  I  find  one  fault  with  your  attire,  Prin- 
cess," said  one  of  the  male  admirers  who 
had  entered  with  her  ;  "  part  of  your  face  is 
veiled.  That  is  a  cruelty  to  us  all  !  " 

She  waived  the  compliment  aside  with  a 
light  gesture. 

"  It  was  the  fashion  in  ancient  Egypt," 
she  said.  "  Love  in  those  old  days  was  not 
what  it  is  now, — one  glance,  one  smile  was 
sufficient  to  set  the  soul  on  fire  and  draw 
another  soul  towards  it  to  consume  together 
in  the  suddenly  kindled  flame  !  And  women 
veiled  their  faces  in  youth,  lest  they  should 
be  deemed  too  prodigal  of  their  charms  ;  and 
in  age  they  covered  themselves  still  more 
closely,  in  order  not  to  affront  the  Sun-God's 


52  ZISKA 

fairness  by  their  wrinkles."  She  smiled,  a 
dazzling  smile  that  drew  Gervase  yet  a  few 
steps  closer  unconsciously,  as  though  he 
were  being  magnetized.  "  But  I  am  not 
bound  to  keep  the  veil  always  up,"  and  as  she 
spoke  she  loosened  it  and  let  it  fall,  showing 
an  exquisite  face,  fair  as  a  lily,  and  of  such 
perfect  loveliness  that  the  men  who  were 
gathered  round  her  seemed  to  lose  breath 
and  speech  at  sight  of  it.  "  That  pleases  you 
better,  Mr.  Murray  ?  " 

Denzil  grew  very  pale.  Bending  down 
he  murmured  something  to  her  in  a  low  tone. 
She  raised  her  lovely  brows  with  a  little 
touch  of  surprise  that  was  half  disdain,  and 
looked  at  him  straightly. 

"  You  say  very  pretty  things ;  but  they 
do  not  always  please  me,"  she  observed. 
"  However,  that  is  my  fault,  no  doubt." 

And  she  began  to  move  onwards,  her  Nu- 
bian page  preceding  her  as  before.  Gervase 
stood  in  her  path  and  confronted  her  as  she 
came. 

"  Introduce  me,"  he  said  in  a  command- 
ing tone  to  Denzil. 

Denzil  looked  at  him,  somewhat  startled 
by  the  suppressed  passion  in  his  voice. 

"  Certainly.  Princess,  permit  me  !  "  She 
paused,  a  figure  of  silent  grace  and  atten- 


ZISKA  53 

tion.  "Allow  me  to  present  to  you  my 
friend,  Armand  Gervase,  the  most  famous 
artist  in  France — Gervase,  the  Princess 
Ziska." 

She  raised  her  deep,  dark  eyes  and  fixed 
them  on  his  face,  and  as  he  looked  boldly 
at  her  in  a  kind  of  audacious  admiration,  he 
felt  again  that  strange  dizzying  shock  which 
had  before  thrilled  him  through  and  through. 
There  was  something  strangely  familiar 
about  her ;  the  faint  odors  that  seemed  ex- 
haled from  her  garments, — the  gleam  of  the 
jewel-winged  scarabei  on  her  breast, — the 
weird  light  of  the  emerald-studded  serpent  in 
her  hair ;  and  more,  much  more  familiar 
than  these  trifles,  was  the  sound  of  her  voice 
— dulcet,  penetrating,  grave  and  haunting 
in  its  tone. 

"At  last  we  meet,  Monsieur  Armand 
Gervase  !  "  she  said  slowly  and  with  a  grace- 
ful inclination  of  her  head.  "  But  I  cannot 
look  upon  you  as  a  stranger,  for  I  have 
known  you  so  long — in  spirit !  " 

She  smiled — a  strange  smile,  dazzling  yet 
enigmatical — and  something  wild  and  vo- 
luptuous seemed  to  stir  in  Gervase's  pulses 
as  he  touched  the  small  hand,  loaded  with 
quaint  Egyptian  gems,  which  she  graciously 
extended  towards  him. 


54  ZISKA 

"  I  think  I  have  known  you,  too  !  "  he 
said.  "  Possibly  in  a  dream, — a  dream  of 
beauty  never  realized  till  now !  " 

His  voice  sank  to  an  amorous  whisper; 
but  she  said  nothing  in  reply,  nor  could  her 
looks  be  construed  into  any  expression  of 
either  pleasure  or  offence.  Yet  through  the 
heart  of  young  Denzil  Murray  went  a  sud- 
den pang  of  jealousy,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  became  conscious  that  even 
among  men  as  well  as  women  there  may 
exist  what  is  called  the  "  petty  envy  "  of  a 
possible  rival,  and  the  uneasy  desire  to  out- 
shine such  an  one  in  all  points  of  appearance, 
dress  and  manner.  His  gaze  rested  brood- 
ingly  on  the  tall,  muscular  form  of  Gervase, 
and  he  noted  the  symmetry  and  supple  grace 
of  the  man  with  an  irritation  of  which  he 
was  ashamed.  He  knew,  despite  his  own 
undeniably  handsome  personality,  which  was 
set  off  to  such  advantage  that  night  by  the 
richness  of  the  Florentine  costume  he  had 
adopted,  that  there  was  a  certain  fascination 
about  Gervase  which  was  inborn,  a  trick  of 
manner  which  made  him  seem  picturesque 
at  all  times ;  and  that  even  when  the  great 
French  artist  had  stayed  with  him  in  Scot- 
land and  got  himself  up  for  the  occasion  in 
more  or  less  baggy  tweeds,  people  were  fond 


ZISKA  55 

of  remarking  that  the  only  man  who  ever 
succeeded  in  making  tweeds  look  artistic  was 
Armand  Gervase.  And  in  the  white  Bedouin 
garb  he  now  wore  he  was  seen  at  his  best ;  a 
certain  restless  passion  betrayed  in  eyes  and 
lips  made  him  look  the  savage  part  he  had 
"  dressed  "  for,  and  as  he  bent  his  head  over 
the  Princess  Ziska's  hand  and  kissed  it  with 
an  odd  mingling  of  flippancy  and  reverence, 
Denzil  suddenly  began  to  think  how  curi- 
ously alike  they  were,  these  two!  Strong 
man  and  fair  woman,  both  had  many  physi- 
cal points  in  common, — the  same  dark,  level 
brows, — the  same  half  wild,  half  tender  eyes, 
— the  same  sinuous  grace  of  form, — the  same 
peculiar  lightness  of  movement, — and  yet 
both  were  different,  while  resembling  each 
other.  It  was  not  what  is  called  a  "  family 
likeness "  which  existed  between  them  ;  it 
was  the  cast  of  countenance  or  "  type  "  that 
exists  between  races  or  tribes,  and  had 
young  Murray  not  known  his  friend  Gervase 
to  be  a  French  Provencal  and  equally  under- 
stood the  Princess  Ziska  to  be  of  Russian 
origin,  he  would  have  declared  them  both 
natives  of  Egypt,  of  the  purest  caste  and 
highest  breeding.  He  was  so  struck  by  this 
idea  that  he  might  have  spoken  his  thought 
aloud  had  he  not  heard  Gervase  boldly  ar- 


$6  ZISKA 

ranging  dance  after  dance  with  the  Princess, 
and  apparently  preparing  to  write  no  name 
but  hers  down  the  entire  length  of  his  ball 
programme, — a  piece  of  audacity  which  had 
the  effect  of  rousing  Denzil  to  assert  his  own 
rights. 

"You  promised  me  the  first  waltz,  Prin- 
cess," he  said,  his  face  flushing  as  he 
spoke. 

"  Quite  true  !  And  you  shall  have  it," 
she  replied,  smiling.  "  Monsieur  Gervase 
will  have  the  second.  The  music  sounds 
very  inviting ;  shall  we  not  go  in  ?  " 

"  We  spoil  the  effect  of  your  entree  crowd- 
ing  about  you  like  this,"  said  Denzil,  glanc- 
ing somewhat  sullenly  at  Gervase  and  the 
other  men  surrounding  her;  "and,  by  the 
way,  you  have  never  told  us  what  character 
you  represent  to-night ;  some  great  queen 
of  old  time,  no  doubt  ?  " 

"  No,  I  lay  no  claim  to  sovereignty,"  she 
answered ;  "  I  am  for  to-night  the  living 
picture  of  a  once  famous  and  very  improper 
person  who  bore  half  my  name,  a  dancer  of 
old  time,  known  as  '  Ziska-Charmazel,'  the 
favorite  of  the  harem  of  a  great  Egyptian 
warrior,  described  in  forgotten  histories  as 
'  The  Mighty  Araxes.'  " 

She  paused  ;  her  admirers,   fascinated  by 


ZISKA  57 

the  sound  of  her  voice,  were  all  silent.  She 
fixed  her  eyes  upon  Gervase  ;  and  addressing 
him  only,  continued : 

"  Yes,  I  am  '  Charmazel,'  "  she  said.  "  She 
was,  as  I  tell  you,  an  '  improper '  person,  or 
would  be  so  considered  by  the  good  English 
people.  Because,  you  know,  she  was  never 
married  to  Araxes  !  " 

This  explanation,  given  with  the  demurest 
naivet^  caused  a  laugh  among  her  listeners. 

"  That  wouldn't  make  her  '  improper '  in 
France,"  said  Gervase  gayly.  "  She  would 
only  seem  more  interesting." 

"  Ah  !  Then  modern  France  is  like  old 
Egypt  ?  "  she  queried,  still  smiling.  "  And 
Frenchmen  can  be  found  perhaps  who  are 
like  Araxes  in  the  number  of  their  loves  and 
infidelities?  " 

"  I  should  say  my  country  is  populated 
entirely  with  copies  of  him,"  replied  Gervase, 
mirthfully.  "Was  he  a  very  distinguished 
personage  ?  " 

"He  was.  Old  legends  say  he  was  the 
greatest  warrior  of  his  time ;  as  you,  Mon- 
sieur Gervase,  are  the  greatest  artist." 

Gervase  bowed. 

"  You  flatter  me,  fair  Charmazel !  "  he  said ; 
then  suddenly  as  the  strange  name  passed 
his  lips  he  recoiled  as  if  he  had  been  stung, 


58  ZISKA 

and  seemed  for  a  moment  dazed.  The 
Princess  turned  her  dark  eyes  on  him  in- 
quiringly. 

"  Something  troubles  you,  Monsieur  Ger- 
vase  ?  "  she  asked. 

His  brows  knitted  in  a  perplexed  frown. 

"  Nothing  ...  the  heat,  ...  the  air 
...  a  trifle,  I  assure  you  ?  Will  you  not 
join  the  dancers?  Denzil,  the  music  calls 
you.  When  your  waltz  with  the  Princess 
is  ended  I  shall  claim  my  turn.  For  the 
moment  .  .  .  au  revoir!  " 

He  stood  aside  and  let  the  little  group 
pass  him  by  :  the  Princess  Ziska  moving 
with  her  floating,  noiseless  grace,  Denzil 
Murray  beside  her,  the  little  Nubian  boy  wav- 
ing the  peacock-plumes  in  front  of  them  both, 
and  all  the  other  enslaved  admirers  of  this 
singularly  attractive  woman  crowding  to- 
gether behind.  He  watched  the  little  cortege 
with  strained,  dim  sight,  till  just  at  the  divid- 
ing portal  between  the  lounge  and  the  ball- 
room the  Princess  turned  and  looked  back 
at  him  with  a  smile.  Over  all  the  interven- 
ing heads  their  eyes  met  in  one  flash  of 
mutual  comprehension  !  then,  as  the  fair  face 
vanished  like  a  light  absorbed  into  the  lights 
beyond  it,  Gervase,  left  alone,  dropped 
heavily  into  a  chair  and  stared  vaguely  at 


ZISKA  59 

the  elaborate  pattern  of  the  thick  carpet  at 
his  feet.  Passing  his  hand  across  his  fore- 
head he  withdrew  it,  wet  with  drops  of  per- 
spiration. 

"  What  is  wrong  with  me  ?  "  he  muttered. 
"  Am  I  sickening  for  a  fever  before  I 
have  been  forty-eight  hours  in  Cairo  ? 
What  fool's  notion  is  this  in  my  brain  ? 
Where  have  I  seen  her  before  ?  In  Paris  ? 
St.  Petersburg?  London?  Charmazel!  .  .  . 
Charmazel !  .  .  .  What  has  the  name  to 
do  with  me?  Ziska-Charmazel !  It  is  like 
the  name  of  a  romance  or  a  gypsy  tune. 
Bah  !  I  must  be  dreaming  !  Her  face,  her 
eyes,  are  perfectly  familiar;  where,  where 
have  I  seen  herand  played  the  mad  fool  with 
her  before  ?  Was  she  a  model  at  one  of  the 
studios  ?  Have  I  seen  her  by  chance  thus 
in  her  days  of  poverty,  and  does  her  image 
recall  itself  vividly  now  despite  her  changed 
surroundings  ?  I  know  the  very  perfume  of 
her  hair  ...  it  seems  to  creep  into  my 
blood  .  .  it  intoxicates  me  .  .  it  chokes 


me 


He  sprang  up  with  a  fierce  gesture,  then 
after  a  minute's  pause  sat  down  again,  and 
again  stared  at  the  floor. 

The  gay  music  from  the  ball-room  danced 
towards  him  on  the  air  in  sweet,  broken 


60  ZISKA 

echoes, — he  heard  nothing   and   saw  noth- 
ing. 

"  My  God  ! "  he  said  at  last,  under  his 
breath.  "  Can  it  be  possible  that  I  love  this 
woman  ?  " 


ZISKA  '       6l 


CHAPTER  III. 

WITHIN  the  ball-room  the  tide  of  gayety 
was  rising  to  its  height.  It  may  be  a  very 
trivial  matter,  yet  it  is  certain  that  fancy 
dress  gives  a  peculiar  charm,  freedom,  and 
brightness  to  festivities  of  the  kind;  and 
men  who  in  the  ordinary  mournful  black 
evening-suit  would  be  taciturn  of  speech  and 
conventional  in  bearing,  throw  off  their  cus- 
tomary reserve  when  they  find  themselves  in 
the  brilliant  and  becoming  attire  of  some 
picturesque  period  when  dress  was  an  art  as 
well  as  a  fashion  ;  and  not  only  do  they  look 
their  best,  but  they  somehow  manage  to  put 
on  "  manner  "  with  costume,  and  to  become 
courteous,  witty,  and  graceful  to  a  degree 
that  sometimes  causes  their  own  relatives  to 
wonder  at  them  and  speculate  as  to  why  they 
have  grown  so  suddenly  interesting.  Few 
have  read  Sartor  Resartus  with  either  com- 
prehension or  profit,  and  are  therefore 
unaware,  as  Teufelsdrockh  was,  that "  Society 
is  founded  upon  Cloth  " — i.e.  that  man  does 


62  ZISKA 

adapt  his  manners  very  much  to  suit  his 
clothes  ;  and  that  as  the  costume  of  the  days 
of  Louis  Quinze  or  Louis  Seize  inspired 
graceful  deportment  and  studied  courtesy  to 
women,  so  does  the  costume  of  our  nine- 
teenth century  inspire  brusque  demeanor 
and  curt  forms  of  speech,  which,  however 
sincere,  are  not  flattering  to  the  fair  sex. 

More  love-making  goes  on  at  a  fancy-dress 
ball  than  at  an  ordinary  one ;  and  numerous 
were  the  couples  that  strolled  through  the 
corridors  and  along  the  terraces  of  the  Gezireh 
Palace  Hotel  when,  after  the  first  dozen 
dances  were  ended,  it  was  discovered  that 
one  of  the  most  glorious  of  full  moons  had 
risen  over  the  turrets  and  minarets  of  Cairo, 
illumining  every  visible  object  with  as  clear 
a  lustre  as  that  of  day.  Then  it  was  that 
warriors  and  nobies  of  mediaeval  days  were 
seen  strolling  with  mythological  goddesses 
and  out-of-date  peasants  of  Italy  and  Spain  ; 
then  audacious  "  toreadors  "  were  perceived 
whispering  in  the  ears  of  crowned  queens, 
and  clowns  were  caught  lingering  amorously 
by  the  side  of  impossible  flower-girls  of  all 
nations.  Then  it  was  that  Sir  Chetwynd 
Lyle,  with  his  paunch  discreetly  restrained 
within  the  limits  of  a  Windsor  uniform 
which  had  been  made  for  him  some  two  or 


ZISKA  63 

three  years  since,  paced  up  and  down  com- 
placently in  the  moonlight,  watching  his 
two  "  girls,"  Muriel  and  Dolly,  doing  busi- 
ness with  certain  "  eligibles  ";  then  it  was 
that  Lady  Fulkeward,  fearfully  and  won- 
derfully got  up  as  the  "  Duchess  of  Gains- 
borough "  sidled  to  and  fro,  flirted  with  this 
man,  flouted  that,  giggled,  shrugged  her 
shoulders,  waved  her  fan,  and  comported 
herself  altogether  as  if  she  were  a  hoy- 
den of  seventeen  just  let  loose  from  school 
for  the  holidays.  And  then  the  worthy 
Dr.  Maxwell  Dean,  somewhat  exhausted 
by  vigorous  capering  in  the  "  Lancers," 
strolled  forth  to  inhale  the  air,  fanning 
himself  with  his  cap  as  he  walked,  and 
listening  keenly  to  every  chance  word  or 
sentence  he  could  hear,  whether  it  con- 
cerned himself  or  not.  He  had  peculiar 
theories,  and  one  of  them  was,  as  he  would 
tell  you,  that  if  you  overheard  a  remark 
apparently  not  intended  for  you,  you  were  to 
make  yourself  quite  easy,  as  it  was  "  a  point 
of  predestination  "  that  you  should  at  that 
particular  moment,  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously, play  the  eavesdropper.  The  rea- 
son of  it  would,  he  always  averred,  be  ex- 
plained to  you  later  on  in  your  career.  The 
well-known  saying  "  listeners  never  hear  any 


64  ZISKA 

good  of  themselves "  was,  he  declared,  a 
most  ridiculous  aphorism.  "  You  overhear 
persons  talking  and  you  listen.  Very  well. 
It  may  chance  that  you  hear  yourself  abused. 
What  then  ?  Nothing  can  be  so  good  for 
you  as  such  abuse  ;  the  instruction  given  is 
twofold;  it  warns  you  against  foes  whom 
you  have  perhaps  considered  friends,  and  it 
tones  down  any  overweening  conceit  you 
may  have  had  concerning  your  own  impor- 
tance or  ability.  Listen  to  everything  if 
you  are  wise — I  always  do.  I  am  an  old  and 
practised  listener.  And  I  have  never  lis- 
tened in  vain.  All  the  information  I  have 
gained  through  listening,  though  apparently 
at  first  disconnected  and  unclassified,  has 
fitted  into  my  work  like  the  stray  pieces  of 
a  puzzle,  and  has  proved  eminently  useful. 
Wherever  I  am  I  always  keep  my  ears  well 
open." 

With  such  views  as  he  thus  entertained, 
life  was  always  enormously  interesting  to 
Dr.  Dean — he  found  nothing  tiresome,  not 
even  the  conversation  of  the  type  known  as 
Noodle.  The  Noodle  was  as  curious  a 
specimen  of  nature  to  him  as  the  emu  or 
the  crocodile.  And  as  he  turned  up  his  in- 
tellectual little  physiognomy  to  the  deep, 
warm  Egyptian  sky  and  inhaled  the  air 


ZISKA  65 

sniffingly,  as  though  it  were  a  monster  scent- 
bottle  just  uncorked  for  his  special  gratifi- 
cation, he  smiled  as  he  observed  Muriel 
Chetwynd  Lyle  standing  entirely  alone  at  the 
end  of  the  terrace,  attired  as  a  "  Boulogne 
fish-wife,"  and  looking  daggers  after  the  has- 
tily-retreating figure  of  a  "  White  Hussar," 
—no  other  than  Ross  Courtney. 

"  How  extremely  droll  a  '  Boulogne  fish- 
wife '  looks  in  Egypt,"  commented  the  Doc- 
tor to  his  inward  self.  "  Re-markable  !  The 
incongruity  is  peculiarly  typical  of  the  Chet- 
wynd Lyles.  The  costume  of  the  young 
woman  is  like  the  knighthood  of  her  father, 
— droll,  droll,  very  droll !  "  Aloud  he  said 
— "  Why  are  you  not  dancing,  Miss 
Muriel?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know — I'm  tired,"  she  said, 
petulantly.  "  Besides,  all  the  men  are  after 
that  Ziska  woman, — they  seem  to  have  lost 
their  heads  about  her !  " 

"  Ah  !  "  and  Dr.  Dean  rubbed  his  hands. 
"  Yes — possibly  !  Well,  she  is  certainly  very 
beautiful." 

"  I  cannot  see  it !  "  and  Muriel  Chetwynd 
Lyle  flushed  with  the  inward  rage  which 
could  not  be  spoken.  "  It's  the  way  she 
dresses  more  than  her  looks.  Nobody  knows 
who  she  is — but  they  do  not  seem  to  care 
5 


66  ZISKA 

about  that.  They  are  all  raving  like  lunatics 
over  her,  and  that  man — that  artist  who  ar- 
rived here  to-day,  Armand  Gervase, — seems 
the  maddest  of  the  lot.  Haven't  you  no- 
ticed how  often  he  has  danced  with  her?  " 

"  I  couldn't  help  noticing  that,"  said  the 
Doctor,  emphatically,  "  for  I  have  never  seen 
anything  more  exquisite  than  the  way  they 
waltz  together.  Physically,  they  seem  made 
for  one  another." 

Muriel  laughed  disdainfully. 

"  You  had  better  tell  Mr.  Denzil  Murray 
that ;  he  is  in  a  bad  enough  humor  now, 
and  that  remark  of  yours  wouldn't  improve 
it,  I  can  tell  you  !  " 

She  broke  off  abruptly,  as  a  slim,  fair  girl, 
dressed  as  a  Greek  vestal  in  white,  with  a 
chaplet  of  silver  myrtle-leaves  round  her 
hair,  suddenly  approached  and  touched  Dr. 
Dean  on  the  arm. 

"Can  I  speak  to  you  a  moment?"  she 
asked. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Murray !  Of  course  !  " 
and  the  Doctor  turned  to  her  at  once. 
"  What  is  it  ?  " 

She  paced  with  him  a  few  steps  in  silence, 
•while  Muriel  Chetwynd  Lyle  moved  lan- 
guidly away  from  the  terrace  and  re-entered 
the  ball-room. 


ZISKA  67 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  repeated  Dr.  Dean.  "  You 
seem  distressed  ;  come,  tell  me  all  about  it !  " 

Helen  Murray  lifted  her  eyes — the  soft, 
violet-gray  eyes  that  Lord  Fulkeward  had 
said  he  admired — suffused  with  tears,  and 
fixed  them  on  the  old  man's  face. 

"  I  wish,"  she  said — "  I  wish  we  had  never 
come  to  Egypt!  I  feel  as  if  some  great 
misfortune  were  going  to  happen  to  us ; 
I  do,  indeed !  Oh,  Dr.  Dean,  have  you 
watched  my  brother  this  evening?  " 

"  I  have,"  he  replied,  and  then  was  silent. 

"And  what  do  you  think?"  she  asked 
anxiously.  "  How  can  you  account  for  his 
strangeness — his  roughness — even  to  me  ?  " 

And  the  tears  brimmed  over  and  fell,  de- 
spite her  efforts  to  restrain  them.  Dr.  Dean 
stopped  in  his  walk  and  took  her  two  hands 
in  his  own. 

"  My  dear  Helen,  it's  no  use  worrying 
yourself  like  this,"  he  said.  "  Nothing  can 
stop  the  progress  of  the  Inevitable.  I  have 
watched  Denzil,  I  have  watched  the  new 
arrival,  Armand  Gervase,  I  have  watched  the 
mysterious  Ziska,  and  I  have  watched  you ! 
Well,  what  is  the  result  ?  The  Inevitable,— 
simply  the  unconquerable  Inevitable.  Den- 
zil is  in  love,  Gervase  is  in  love,  everybody 
is  in  love,  except  me  and  one  other !  It  is  a 


68  ZISKA 

whole  network  of  mischief,  and  I  am  the  un- 
happy fly  that  has  unconsciously  fallen  into 
the  very  middle  of  it.  But  the  spider,  my 
dear, — the  spider  who  wove  the  web  in  the 
first  instance, — is  the  Princess  Ziska,  and  she 
is  not  in  love  !  She  is  the  other  one.  She  is 
not  in  love  with  anybody  any  more  than  I 
am.  She's  got  something  else  on  her  mind 
— I  don't  know  what  it  is  exactly,  but  it 
isn't  love.  Excluding  her  and  myself,  the 
whole  hotel  is  in  love — you  are  in  love !  " 

Helen  withdrew  her  hands  from  his  grasp 
and  a  deep  flush  reddened  her  fair  face. 

"  I !  "  she  stammered — "  Dr.  Dean,  you 
are  mistaken.  .  .  ." 

"  Dr.  Dean  was  never  mistaken  on  love- 
matters  in  his  life,"  said  that  self-satisfied 
sage  complacently.  "  Now,  my  dear,  don't 
be  offended.  I  have  known  both  you  and 
your  brother  ever  since  you  were  left  little 
orphan  children  together ;  if  I  cannot  speak 
plainly  to  you,  who  can  ?  You  are  in  love, 
little  Helen — and  very  unwisely,  too — with 
the  man  Gervase.  I  have  heard  of  him 
often,  but  I  never  saw  him  before  to-night. 
And  I  don't  approve  of  him." 

Helen  grew  as  pale  as  she  had  been  rosy, 
and  her  face  as  the  moonlight  fell  upon  it 
was  very  sorrowful. 


ZISKA  69 

"  He  stayed  with  us  in  Scotland  two  sum- 
mers ago,  "  she  said  softly.  "He  was  very 
agreeable.  ..." 

"  Ha  !  No  doubt !  He  made  a  sort  of 
love  to  you  then,  I  suppose.  I  can  imagine 
him  doing  it  very  well !  There  is  a  nice  ro- 
mantic glen  near  your  house — just  where  the 
river  runs,  and  where  I  caught  a  fifteen- 
pound  salmon  some  five  years  ago.  Ha! 
Catching  salmon  is  healthy  work ;  much 
better  than  falling  in  love.  No,  no,  Helen  ! 
Gervase  is  not  good  enough  for  you  ;  you 
want  a  far  better  man.  Has  he  spoken  to 
you  to-night  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !     And  he  has  danced  with  me." 

"  Ha  !     How  often  ?  " 

"  Once." 

"  And  how  many  times  with  the  Princess 
Ziska?" 

Helen's  fair  head  drooped,  and  she 
answered  nothing.  All  at  once  the  little 
Doctor's  hand  closed  on  her  arm  with  a  soft 
yet  firm  grip. 

"  Look  !  "  he  whispered. 

She  raised  her  eyes  and  saw  two  figures 
step  out  on  the  terrace  and  stand  in  the  full 
moonlight, — the  white  Bedouin  dress  of  the 
one  and  the  glittering  golden  robe  of  the  other 
made  them  easily  recognizable, — they  were 


7O  ZISKA 

Gervase  and  the  Princess  Ziska.  Helen  gave 
a  faint,  quick  sigh. 

"  Let  us  go  in,"  she  said. 

"  Nonsense  !  Why  should  we  go  in  ?  On 
the  contrary,  let  us  join  them." 

"  Oh,  no  ! "  and  Helen  shrank  visibly  at 
the  very  idea.  "  I  cannot ;  do  not  ask  me  ! 
I  have  tried — you  know  I  have  tried — to  like 
the  Princess  ;  but  something  in  her — I  don't 
know  what  it  is — repels  me.  To  speak  truth- 
fully, I  think  I  am  afraid  of  her." 

"Afraid!  Pooh!  Why  should  you  be 
afraid  ?  It  is  true  one  doesn't  often  see  a 
woman  with  the  eyes  of  a  vampire-bat ;  but 
there  is  nothing  to  be  frightened  about.  I 
have  dissected  the  eyes  of  a  vampire-bat — 
very  interesting  work,  very.  The  Princess 
has  them — only,  of  course,  hers  are  larger 
and  finer;  but  there  is  exactly  the  same 
expression  in  them.  I  am  fond  of  study, 
you  know ;  I  am  studying  her.  What !  Are 
you  determined  to  run  away  ?  " 

"  I  am  engaged  for  this  dance  to  Mr. 
Courtney,"  said  Helen,  nervously. 

"  Well,  well !  We'll  resume  our  conver- 
sation another  time,"  and  Dr.  Dean  took  her 
hand  and  patted  it  pleasantly.  "  Don't  fret 
yourself  about  Denzil ;  he'll  be  all  right. 
And  take  my  advice :  don't  marry  a  Bedouin 


ZISKA.  71 

chief;  marry  an  honest,  straightforward, 
tender-hearted  Englishman  who'll  take  care 
of  you,  not  a  nondescript  savage  who'll  desert 
you  !  " 

And  with  a  humorous  and  kindly  smile, 
Dr.  Dean  moved  off  to  join  the  two  motion- 
less and  picturesque  figures  that  stood  side 
by  side  looking  at  the  moon,  while  Helen, 
like  a  frightened  bird  suddenly  released,  fled 
precipitately  back  to  the  ball-room,  where 
Ross  Courtney  was  already  searching  for  her 
as  his  partner  in  the  next  waltz. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  mused  the  Doctor, 
"  this  is  a  very  pretty  kettle  of  fish  !  The 
Gezireh  Palace  Hotel  is  not  a  hotel  at  all, 
it  seems  to  me;  it  is  a  lunatic  asylum.  What 
with  Lady  Fulkeward  getting  herself  up  as 
twenty  at  the  age  of  sixty  ;  and  Muriel  and 
Dolly  Chetwynd  Lyle  man-hunting  with 
more  ferocity  than  sportsmen  hunt  tigers  ; 
Helen  in  love,  Denzil  in  love,  Gervase  in 
love — dear  me  !  dear  me !  What  a  list  of 
subjects  for  a  student's  consideration  !  And 
the  Princess  Ziska.  .  .  ." 

He  broke  off  his  meditations  abruptly, 
vaguely  impressed  by  the  strange  solemnity 
of  the  night.  An  equal  solemnity  seemed  to 
surround  the  two  figures  to  which  he  now 
drew  nigh,  and  as  the  Princess  Ziska  turned 


72  ZISKA 

her  eyes  upon  him  as  he  came,  he  was,  to 
his  own  vexation,  aware  that  something 
indefinable  disturbed  his  usual  equanimity 
and  gave  him  an  unpleasant  thrill. 

"You  are  enjoying  a  moonlight  stroll, 
Doctor?"  she  inquired. 

Her  veil  was  now  cast  aside  in  a  careless 
fold  of  soft  drapery  over  her  shoulders,  and 
her  face  in  its  ethereal  delicacy  of  feature  a.id 
brilliant  coloring  looked  almost  too  beauti- 
ful to  be  human.  Dr.  Dean  did  not  reply 
for  a  moment ;  he  was  thinking  what  a  singu- 
lar resemblance  there  was  between  Armand 
Gervase  and  one  of  the  figures  on  a  certain 
Egyptian  fresco  in  the  British  Museum. 

"  Enjoying — er — er — a  what  ? — a  moon- 
light stroll  ?  Exactly — er — yes  !  Pardon 
me,  Princess,  my  mind  often  wanders,  and  I 
am  afraid  I  am  getting  a  little  deaf  as  well. 
Yes,  I  find  the  night  singularly  conducive  to 
meditation  ;  one  cannot  be  in  a  land  like  this 
under  a  sky  like  this  " — and  he  pointed  to 
the  shining  heaven — "  without  recalling  the 
great  histories  of  the  past." 

"  I  daresay  they  were  very  much  like  the 
histories  of  the  present,"  said  Gervase  smil- 
ing. 

"  I  should  doubt  that.  History  is  what 
man  makes  it ;  and  the  character  of  man  in 


ZISKA  73 

the  early  days  of  civilization  was,  I  think, 
more  forceful,  more  earnest,  more  strong  of 
purpose,  more  bent  on  great  achievements." 

"  The  principal  achievement  and  glory 
being  to  kill  as  many  of  one's  fellow-creatures 
as  possible  ! "  laughed  Gervase — "  Like  the 
famous  warrior,  Araxes,  of  whom  the  Prin- 
cess has  just  been  telling  me  !  " 

"  Araxes  was  great,  but  now  Araxes  is 
a  forgotten  hero,"  said  the  Princess  slowly, 
each  accent  of  her  dulcet  voice  chiming  on 
the  ear  like  the  stroke  of  a  small  silver  bell. 
"  None  of  the  modern  discoverers  know  any- 
thing about  him  yet.  They  have  not  even 
found  his  tomb  ;  but  he  was  buried  in  the 
Pyramids  with  all  the  honors  of  a  king.  No 
doubt  your  clever  men  will  excavate  him 
some  day." 

"  I  think  the  Pyramids  have  been  very 
thoroughly  explored,"  said  Dr.  Dean. 
"  Nothing  of  any  importance  remains  in 
them  now." 

The  Princess  arched  her  lovely  eyebrows. 

"  No  ?  Ah  !  I  daresay  you  know  them 
better  than  I  do  !  "  and  she  laughed,  a  laugh 
which  was  not  mirthful  so  much  as  scornful. 

"  I  am  very  much  interested  in  Araxes," 
said  Gervase  then,  "  partly,  I  suppose,  be- 
cause he  is  as  yet  in  the  happy  condition  of 


74  ZISKA 

being  an  interred  mummy.  Nobody  has  dug 
him  up,  unwound  his  cerements,  or  photo- 
graphed him,  and  his  ornaments  have  not 
been  stolen.  And  in  the  second  place  I  am 
interested  in  him  because  it  appears  he  was 
in  love  with  the  famous  dancer  of  his  day 
whom  the  Princess  represents  to-night, — 
Charmazel.  I  wish  I  had  heard  the  story 
before  I  came  to  Cairo ;  I  would  have  got 
myself  up  as  Araxes  in  person  to-night." 

"  In  order  to  play  the  lover  of  Charmazel  ?  " 
queried  the  Doctor. 

"  Exactly  !  "  replied  Gervase  with  flashing 
eyes  ;  "  I  daresay  I  could  have  acted  the 
part." 

"  I  should  imagine  you  could  act  any  part," 
replied  the  Doctor,  blandly.  "  The  role  of 
love-making  comes  easily  to  most  men." 

The  Princess  looked  at  him  as  he  spoke  and 
smiled.  The  jewelled  scarab,  set  as  a  brooch 
on  her  bosom,  flashed  luridly  in  the  moon, 
and  in  her  black  eyes  there  was  a  similar 
lurid  gleam. 

"  Come  and  talk  to  me,"  she  said,  laying 
her  hand  on  his  arm  ;  "  I  am  tired,  and  the 
conversation  of  one's  ball-room  partners  is 
very  banal.  Monsieur  Gervase  would  like 
me  to  dance  all  night,  I  imagine ;  but  I  am 
too  lazy.  I  leave  such  energy  to  Lady 


ZISKA  75 

Fulkeward  and  to  all  the  English  misses  and 
madams.  I  love  indolence." 

"  Most  Russian  women  do,  I  think,"  ob- 
served the  Doctor. 

She  laughed. 

"  But  I  am  not  Russian !  " 

"  I  know.  I  never  thought  you  were,"  he 
returned  composedly  ;  "  but  everyone  in  the 
hotel  has  come  to  the  conclusion  that  you 
are ! " 

"  They  are  all  wrong !  What  can  I  do  to 
put  them  right  ?  "  she  inquired  with  a  fas- 
cinating little  upward  movement  of  her 
eyebrows. 

"  Nothing !  Leave  them  in  their  ignorance. 
I  shall  not  enlighten  them,  though  I  know 
your  nationality." 

"  You  do  ?  "  and  a  curious  shadow  dark- 
ened her  features.  "  But  perhaps  you  are 
wrong  also  !  " 

"  I  think  not,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  gentle 
obstinacy.  "  You  are  an  Egyptian.  Born 
in  Egypt  ;  born  of  Egypt.  Pure  Eastern  ! 
There  is  nothing  Western  about  you.  Is 
not  it  so  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  enigmatically. 

"  You  have  made  a  near  guess,''  she 
replied  ;  "  but  you  are  not  absolutely  correct. 
Originally,  I  am  of  Egypt." 


76  ZISKA 

Dr.  Dean  nodded  pleasantly. 

"  Originally, — yes.  That  is  precisely  what 
I  mean — originally  !  Let  me  take  you  in  to 
supper." 

He  offered  his  arm,  but  Gervase  made  a 
hasty  step  forward. 

"  Princess,"  he  began — • 

She  waved  him  off  lightly. 

"  My  dear  Monsieur  Gervase,  we  are  not 
in  the  desert,  where  Bedouin  chiefs  do  just 
as  they  like.  We  are  in  a  modern  hotel  in 
Cairo,  and  all  the  good  English  mammas  will 
be  dreadfully  shocked  if  I  am  seen  too  much 
with  you.  I  have  danced  with  you  five 
times,  remember!  And  I  will  dance  with 
you  once  more  before  I  leave.  When  our 
waltz  begins,  come  and  find  me  in  the  upper- 
room." 

She  moved  away  on  Dr.  Dean's  arm,  and 
Gervase  moodily  drew  back  and  let  her  pass. 
When  she  had  gone,  he  lit  a  cigarette  and 
walked  impatiently  up  and  down  the  ter- 
race, a  heavy  frown  wrinkling  his  brows. 
The  shadow  of  a  man  suddenly  darkened 
the  moonlight  in  front  of  him,  and  Denzil 
Murray's  hand  fell  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Gervase,"  he  said,  huskily,  "  I  must 
speak  to  you." 

Gervase  glanced  him  up  and  down,  taking 


ZISKA  77 

note  of  his  pale  face  and  wild  eyes  with  a 
certain  good-humored  regret  and  compassion. 

"  Say  on,  my  friend." 

Denzil  looked  straight  at  him,  biting  his 
lips  hard  and  clenching  his  hands  in  the 
effort  to  keep  down  some  evidently  violent 
emotion. 

"  The  Princess  Ziska,"  he  began, — 

Gervase  smiled,  and  flicked  the  ash  off  his 
cigarette. 

"  The  Princess  Ziska,"  he  echoed, — "  Yes? 
What  of  her?  She  seems  to  be  the  only 
person  talked  about  in  Cairo.  Everybody 
in  this  hotel,  at  any  rate,  begins  conversa- 
tion with  precisely  the  same  words  as  you 
do, — '  the  Princess  Ziska ! '  Upon  my  life, 
it  is  very  amusing !  " 

"  It  is  not  amusing  to  me,"  said  Denzil, 
bitterly.  "  To  me  it  is  a  matter  of  life  and 
death."  He  paused,  and  Gervase  looked  at 
him  curiously.  "  We've  always  been  such 
good  friends,  Gervase,"  he  continued,  "  that 
I  should  be  sorry  if  anything  came  between 
us  now,  so  I  think  it  is  better  to  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it  and  speak  out  plainly." 
Again  he  hesitated,  his  face  growing  still 
paler,  then  with  a  sudden  ardent  light  glow- 
ing in  his  eyes  he  said — "  Gervase,  I  love 
the  Princess  Ziska !  " 


78  ZISKA 

Gervase  threw  away  his  cigarette  and 
laughed  aloud  with  a  wild  hilarity. 

"  My  good  boy,  I  am  very  sorry  for  you  ! 
Sorry,  too,  for  myself !  I  deplore  the  posi- 
tion in  which  we  are  placed  with  all  my 
heart  and  soul.  It  is  unfortunate,  but  it 
seems  inevitable.  You  love  the  Princess 
Ziska, — and  by  all  the  gods  of  Egypt  and 
Christendom,  so  do  I  ! " 


ZISKA  79 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DENZIL  recoiled  a  step  backward,  then 
with  an  impulsive  movement  strode  close  up 
to  him,  his  face  unnaturally  flushed  and  his 
eyes  glittering  with  an  evil  fire. 

"  You — you  love  her  !  What ! — in  one 
short  hour,  you — who  have  often  boasted  to 
me  of  having  no  heart,  no  eyes  for  women 
except  as  models  for  your  canvas, — you  say 
now  that  you  love  a  woman  whom  you  have 
never  seen  before  to-night !  " 

"  Stop  ! "  returned  Gervase  somewhat 
moodily,  "  I  am  not  so  sure  about  that.  I 
have  seen  her  before,  though  where  I  can- 
not tell.  But  the  fire  that  stirs  my  pulses 
now  seems  to  spring  from  some  old  passion 
suddenly  revived,  and  the  eyes  of  the  woman 
we  are  both  mad  for — well !  they  do  not 
inspire  holiness,  my  dear  friend !  No, — 
neither  in  you  nor  in  me!  Let  us  be  hon- 
est with  each  other.  There  is  something 
vile  in  the  composition  of  Madame  la  Prin- 
cesse,  and  it  responds  to  something  equally 


8O  ZISKA 

vile  in  ourselves.  We  shall  be  dragged 
down  by  the  force  of  it, — tant  pis  pour  nous  ! 
I  am  sorrier  for  you  than  for  myself,  for  you 
are  a  good  fellow,  au  fond ;  you  have  what 
the  world  is  learning  to  despise — sentiment. 
I  have  none  ;  for  as  I  told  you  before,  I 
have  no  heart,  but  I  have  passions — tigerish 
ones — which  must  be  humored ;  in  fact,  I 
make  it  my  business  in  life  to  humor  them." 

"  Do  you  intend  to  humor  them  in  this 
instance  ?  " 

"Assuredly!     If  I  can." 

"  Then, — friend  as  you  have  been,  you  can 
be  friend  no  more,"  said  Denzil  fiercely. 
"  My  God  !  Do  you  not  understand  ?  My 
blood  is  as  warm  as  yours, — I  will  not  yield 
to  you  one  smile,  one  look  from  Ziska  !  No  ! 
— I  will  kill  you  first !  " 

Gervase  looked  at  him  calmly. 

"Will  you?  Pauvre  garqon !  You  are 
such  a  boy  still,  Denzil, — by-the-bye,  how 
old  are  you  ?  Ah,  I  remember  now, — twenty- 
two.  Only  twenty-two,  and  I  am  thirty- 
eight  !  So  in  the  measure  of  time  alone, 
your  life  is  more  valuable  to  you  than  mine 
is  to  me.  If  you  choose,  therefore,  you  can 
kill  me, — now,  if  you  like  !  I  have  a  very 
convenient  dagger  in  my  belt — I  think  It  has 
a  point— which  you  are  welcome  to  use  for 


ZISKA  8 1 

the  purpose  ;  but,  for  heaven's  sake,  don't 
rant  about  it — do  it !  You  can  kill  me — of 
course  you  can  ;  but  you  cannot — mark  this 
well,  Denzil ! — you  cannot  prevent  my  loving 
the  same  woman  whom  you  love.  I  think 
instead  of  raving  about  the  matter  here  in 
the  moonlight,  which  has  the  effect  of  making 
us  look  like  two  orthodox  villains  in  a  set 
stage-scene,  we'd  better  make  the  best  of  it, 
and  resolve  to  abide  by  the  lady's  choice  in 
the  matter.  What  say  you  ?  You  have 
known  her  for  many  days, — I  have  known 
her  for  two  hours.  You  have  had  the  first 
innings,  so  you  cannot  complain." 

Here  he  playfully  unfastened  the  Bedouin 
knife  which  hung  at  his  belt  and  offered  it  to 
Denzil,  holding  it  delicately  by  the  glittering 
blade. 

"  One  thrust,  my  brave  boy  ! "  he  said. 
"And  you  will  stop  the  Ziska  fever  in  my 
veins  at  once  and  forever.  But,  unless  you 
deal  the  murderer's  blow,  the  fever  will  go  on 
increasing  till  it  reaches  its  extremest  height, 
and  then  .  .  ." 

"  And  then  ?  "  echoed  Denzil. 

"Then?  Oh — God  only  knows  what 
then  ! " 

Denzil   thrust  away  the   offered  weapon 
with  a  movement  of  aversion. 
6 


82  ZISKA 

"  You  can  jest,"  he  said.  "  You  are 
always  jesting.  But  you  do  not  know — you 
cannot  read  the  horrible  thoughts  in  my 
mind.  I  cannot  resolve  their  meaning  even 
to  myself.  There  is  some  truth  in  your  light 
words  ;  I  feel,  I  know  instinctively,  that  the 
woman  I  love  has  an  attraction  about  her 
which  is  not  good,  but  evil ;  yet  what  does 
that  matter  ?  Do  not  men  sometimes  love 
vile  women  ?  " 

"  Always  !  "  replied  Gervase  briefly. 

"  Gervase,  I  have  suffered  tortures  ever 
since  I  saw  her  face ! "  exclaimed  the  un- 
happy lad,  his  self-control  suddenly  giving 
way.  "  You  cannot  imagine  what  my  life 
has  been !  Her  eyes  make  me  mad, — the 
merest  touch  of  her  hand  seems  to  drag  me 
away  invisibly.  .  .  ." 

"  To  perdition  !  "  finished  Gervase.  "  That 
is  the  usual  end  of  the  journey  we  men  take 
with  beautiful  women." 

"  And  now,"  went  on  Denzil,  hardly  heed- 
ing him, "  as  if  my  own  despair  were  not  suf- 
ficient, you  must  needs  add  to  it !  What  evil 
fate,  I  wonder,  sent  you  to  Cairo  !  Of  course, 
I  have  no  chance  with  her  now  ;  you  are  sure 
to  win  the  day.  And  can  you  wonder  then 
that  I  feel  as  if  I  could  kill  you?" 

"  Oh,  I  wonder  at  nothing,"  said  Gervase 


ZISKA  83 

calmly,  "  except,  perhaps,  at  myself.  And  I 
echo  your  words  most  feelingly, — What  evil 
fate  sent  me  to  Cairo  ?  I  cannot  tell !  But 
here  I  purpose  to  remain.  My  dear  Murray, 
don't  let  us  quarrel  if  we  can  help  it ;  it  is 
such  a  waste  of  time.  I  am  not  angry  with 
you  for  loving  la  belle  Ziska, — try,  therefore, 
not  to  be  angry  with  me.  Let  the  fair  one 
herself  decide  as  to  our  merits.  My  own 
opinion  is  that  she  cares  for  neither  of  us, 
and,  moreover,  that  she  never  will  care  for 
any  one  except  her  fascinating  self.  And 
certainly  her  charms  are  quite  enough  to 
engross  her  whole  attention.  By  the  way, 
let  me  ask  you,  Denzil,  in  this  headstrong 
passion  of  yours, — for  it  is  a  headstrong 
passion,  just  as  mine  is, — do  you  actually  in- 
tend to  make  the  Ziska  your  wife  if  she  will 
have  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Murray,  with  some 
haughtiness. 

A  fleeting  expression  of  amusement  flitted 
over  Gervase's  features. 

"  It  is  very  honorable  of  you,"  he  said, 
"  very  !  My  dear  boy,  you  shall  have  your 
full  chance.  Because  I — I  would  not  make 
the  Princess  Madame  Gervase  for  all  the 
world  !  She  is  not  formed  for  a  life  of  do- 
mesticity— and  pardon  me — I  cannot  pic- 


84  ZISKA 

ture  her  as  the  contented  chatelaine  of  your 
grand  old  Scotch  castle  in  Ross-shire." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  From  an  artistic  point  of  view  the  idea  is 
incongruous,"  said  Gervase  lazily.  "  Never- 
theless, I  will  not  interfere  with  your  woo- 
ing." 

Denzil's  face  brightened. 

"  You  will  not  ?  " 

"  I  will  not — I  promise !  But " — and  here 
Gervase  paused,  looking  his  young  friend 
full  in  the  eyes,  "  remember,  if  your  chance 
falls  to  the  ground — if  Madame  gives  you 
your  congd — if  she  does  not  consent  to  be  a 
Scottish  chatelaine  and  listen  every  day  to 
the  bagpipes  at  dinner, — you  cannot  expect 
me  then  to  be  indifferent  to  my  own  desires. 
She  shall  not  be  Madame  Gervase, — oh,  no  ! 
She  shall  not  be  asked  to  attend  to  the/0/- 
au-feu  ;  she  shall  act  the  role  for  which  she 
has  dressed  to-night;  she  shall  be  another 
Charmazel  to  another  Araxes,  though  the 
wild  days  of  Egypt  are  no  more!  " 

A  sudden  shiver  ran  through  him  as  he 
spoke,  and  instinctively  he  drew  the  white 
folds  of  his  picturesque  garb  closer  about 
him. 

"  There  is  a  chill  wind  sweeping  in  from 
the  desert,"  he  said,  "  an  evil,  sandy  breath 


ZISKA  85 

tasting  of  mummy-dust  blown  through  the 
crevices  of  the  tombs  of  kings.  Let  us  go 
in." 

Murray  looked  at  him  in  a  kind  of  dull 
despair. 

"And  what  is  to  be  done?"  he  asked. 
"  I  cannot  answer  for  myself — and — from 
what  you  say,  neither  can  you." 

"  My  dear  friend — or  foe — whichever  you 
determine  to  be,  I  can  answer  for  myself  in 
one  particular  at  any  rate,  namely,  that  as 
I  told  you,  I  shall  not  ask  the  Princess  to 
marry  me.  You,  on  the  contrary,  will  do  so. 
Bonne  chance  !  I  shall  do  nothing  to  pre- 
vent Madame  from  accepting  the  honor- 
able position  you  intend  to  offer  her.  And 
till  the  fiat  has  gone  forth  and  the  fair  one 
has  decided,  we  will  not  fly  at  each  other's 
throats  like  wolves  disputing  possession  of  a 
lamb  ;  we  will  assume  composure,  even  if  we 
have  it  not."  He  paused,  and  laid  one  hand 
kindly  on  the  younger  man's  shoulder,  "  Is 
it  agreed  ?  " 

Denzil  gave  a  mute  sign  of  resigned  ac- 
quiescence. 

"  Good  !  I  like  you,  Denzil ;  you  are  a 
charming  boy !  Hot-tempered  and  a  trifle 
melodramatic  in  your  loves  and  hatreds, — 
yes ! — for  that  you  might  have  been  a  Proven- 


86  ZISKA 

$al  instead  of  a  Scot.  Before  I  knew  you  I 
had  a  vague  idea  that  all  Scotchmen  were,  or 
needs  must  be,  ridiculous, — I  don't  know 
why.  I  associated  them  with  bagpipes,  short 
petticoats  and  whisky.  I  had  no  idea  of 
the  type  you  so  well  represent, — the  dark, 
fine  eyes,  the  strong  physique,  and  the  im- 
petuous disposition  which  suggests  the  South 
rather  than  the  North  ;  and  to-night  you  look 
so  unlike  the  accepted  cafichantant  picture  of 
the  ever-dancing  Highlander  that  you  might 
in  very  truth  be  a  Florentine  in  more  points 
than  the  dress  which  so  well  becomes  you. 
Yes, — I  like  you — and  more  than  you,  I 
like  your  sister.  That  is  why  I  don't  want 
to  quarrel  with  you ;  I  wouldn't  grieve  Ma- 
demoiselle Helen  for  the  world." 

Murray  gave  him  a  quick,  half-angry  side- 
glance. 

"  You  are  a  strange  fellow,  Gervase.  Two 
summers  ago  you  were  almost  in  love  with 
Helen." 

Gervase  sighed. 

"  True.  Almost.  That's  just  it.  '  Al- 
most '  is  a  very  uncomfortable  word.  I 
have  been  almost  in  love  so  many  times.  I 
have  never  been  drawn  by  a  woman's  eyes 
and  dragged  down,  down, — in  a  mad  whirl- 
pool of  sweetness  and  poison  intermixed. 


ZISKA  87 

I  have  never  had  my  soul  strangled  by  the 
coils  of  a  woman's  hair — black  hair,  black  as 
night, — in  the  perfumed  meshes  of  which  a 
jewelled  serpent  gleams  ...  I  have  never 
felt  the  insidious  horror  of  a  love  like  strong 
drink  mounting  through  the  blood  to  the 
brain,  and  there  making  inextricable  con- 
fusion of  time,  space,  eternity,  everything, 
except  the  passion  itself  ;  never,  never  have 
I  felt  all  this,  Denzil,  till  to-night  !  To- 
night !  Bah  !  It  is  a  wild  night  of  dancing 
and  folly,  and  the  Princess  Ziska  is  to  blame 
for  it  all !  Don't  look  so  tragic,  my  good 
Denzil, — what  ails  you  now  ?  " 

"  What  ails  me  ?  Good  Heavens  !  Can 
you  ask  it ! "  and  Murray  gave  a  gesture  of 
mingled  despair  and  impatience.  "  If  you 
love  her  in  this  wild,  uncontrolled  way  .  .  ." 

"  It  is  the  only  way  I  know  of,"  said 
Gervase.  "  Love  must  be  wild  and  uncon- 
trolled to  save  it  from  banalitt.  It  must  be 
a  summer  thunderstorm ;  the  heavy  brood- 
ing of  the  clouds  of  thought,  the  lightning 
of  desire,  then  the  crash,  the  downpour, — 
and  the  end,  in  which  the  bland  sun  smiles 
upon  a  bland  world  of  dull  but  wholesome 
routine  and  tame  conventionality,  making 
believe  that  there  never  was  such  a  thing 
known  as  the  past  storm !  Be  consoled, 


88  ZISKA. 

Denzil,  and  trust  me, — you  shall  have  time 
to  make  your  honorable  proposal,  and 
Madame  had  better  accept  you, — for  your 
love  would  last, — mine  could  not !  " 

He  spoke  with  a  strange  fierceness  and 
irritability,  and  his  eyes  were  darkened  by  a 
sudden  shadow  of  melancholy.  Denzil,  be- 
wildered at  his  words  and  manner,  stared  at 
him  in  a  kind  of  helpless  indignation. 

"  Then  you  admit  yourself  to  be  cruel 
and  unprincipled  ?  "  he  said. 

Gervase  smiled,  with  a  little  shrug  of 
impatience. 

"  Do  I  ?  I  was  not  aware  of  it.  Is  in- 
constancy to  women  cruelty  and  want  of 
principle  ?  If  so,  all  men  must  bear  the 
brunt  of  the  accusation  with  me.  For  men 
were  originally  barbarians,  and  always  looked 
upon  women  as  toys  or  slaves ;  the  barbaric 
taint  is  not  out  of  us  yet,  I  assure  you, — at 
any  rate,  it  is  not  out  of  me.  I  am  a  pure 
savage ;  I  consider  the  love  of  woman  as 
my  right ;  if  I  win  it,  I  enjoy  it  as  long  as  I 
please,  but  no  longer, — and  not  all  the  forces 
of  heaven  and  earth  should  bind  me  to  any 
woman  I  had  once  grown  weary  of." 

"  If  that  is  your  character,"  said  Murray 
stiffly,  "it  were  well  the  Princess  Ziska 
should  know  it." 


ZISKA  89 

"  True,"  and  Gervase  laughed  loudly. 
"  Tell  her,  mon  ami!  Tell  her  that  Armand 
Gervase  is  an  unprincipled  villain,  not  worth 
a  glance  from  her  dazzling  eyes  !  It  will  be 
the  way  to  make  her  adore  me !  My  good 
boy,  do  you  not  know  that  there  is  some- 
thing very  marvellous  in  the  attraction  we 
call  love  ?  It  is  a  pre-ordained  destiny, — 
and  if  one  soul  is  so  constituted  that  it 
must  meet  and  mix  with  another,  nothing 
can  hinder  the  operation.  So  that,  believe 
me,  I  am  quite  indifferent  as  to  what  you 
say  of  me  to  Madame  la  Princesse  or  to 
anyone  else.  It  will  not  be  for  either  my 
looks  or  my  character  that  she  will  love  me 
if,  indeed,  she  ever  does  love  me ;  it  will  be 
for  something  indistinct,  indefinable  but 
resistless  in  us  both,  which  no  one  on  earth 
can  explain.  And  now  I  must  go,  Denzil, 
and  claim  the  fair  one  for  this  waltz.  Try 
and  look  less  miserable,  my  dear  fellow, — I 
will  not  quarrel  with  you  on  the  Princess's 
account,  nor  on  any  other  pretext  if  I  can 
help  it, — for  I  don't  want  to  kill  you,  and 
I  am  convinced  your  death  and  not  mine 
would  be  the  result  of  a  fight  between  us  !  " 

His  eyes  flashed  under  his  straight,  fierce 
brows  with  a  sudden  touch  of  imperiousness, 
and  his  commanding  presence  became  mag- 


90  ZISKA 

netic,  almost  over-powering.  Tormented 
with  a  dozen  cross-currents  of  feeling,  young 
Denzil  Murray  was  mute  ; — only  his  breath 
came  and  went  quickly,  and  there  was  a 
certain  silently-declared  antagonism  in  his 
very  attitude.  Gervase  saw  it  and  smiled ; 
then  turning  away  with  his  peculiarly  noise- 
less step  and  grace  of  bearing,  he  disap- 
peared. 


ZISKA  91 


CHAPTER  V. 

TEN  minutes  later  the  larger  number  of 
dancers  in  the  ball-room  came  to  a  sudden 
pause  in  their  gyrations  and  stood  looking 
on  in  open-mouthed,  reluctantly-admiring 
wonderment  at  the  exquisite  waltz  move- 
ments of  the  Princess  Ziska  as  she  floated 
past  them  in  the  arms  of  Gervase,  who,  as  a 
"  Bedouin  chief,"  was  perhaps  only  acting 
his  part  aright  when  he  held  her  to  him 
with  so  passionate  and  close  a  grip  and 
gazed  down  upon  her  fair  face  with  such  a 
burning  ardor  in  his  eyes.  Nothing  in  the 
dancing  world  was  ever  seen  like  the  danc- 
ing of  these  two — nothing  so  languorously 
beautiful  as  the  swaying  grace  of  their  well- 
matched  figures  gliding  to  the  music  in  as 
perfectly  harmonious  a  measure  as  a  bird's 
two  wings  beat  to  the  pulsations  of  the  air. 
People  noticed  that  as  the  Princess  danced 
a  tiny  tinkling  sound  accompanied  her  every 
step;  and  the  more  curious  observers,  peep- 
ing downwards  as  she  flew  by,  saw  that  she 


92  ZISKA 

had  kept  to  the  details  of  ancient  Egyptian 
costume  so  exactly  that  she  even  wore  san- 
dals, and  that  her  feet,  perfectly  shaped  and 
lovely  as  perfectly  shaped  and  lovely  hands, 
were  bare  save  for  the  sandal-ribbons  which 
crossed  them,  and  which  were  fastened  with 
jewels.  Round  the  slim  ankles  were  light 
bands  of  gold,  also  glittering  with  gems,  and 
furthermore  adorned  by  little  golden  bells 
which  produced  the  pretty  tinkling  music 
that  attracted  attention. 

"  What  a  delightful  creature  she  is  !  "  said 
Lady  Fulkeward,  settling  her  "  Duchess  of 
Gainsborough  "  hat  on  her  powdered  wig 
more  becomingly  and  smiling  up  in  the  face 
of  Ross  Courtney,  who  happened  to  be  stand- 
ing close  by.  "  So  sweetly  unconventional ! 
Everybody  here  thinks  her  improper ;  she 
may  be,  but  I  like  her.  I'm  not  a  bit  of  a 
prude." 

Courtney  smiled  irreverently  at  this. 
Prudery  and  "  old  "  Lady  Fulkeward  were 
indeed  wide  apart.  Aloud  he  said  : 

"  I  think  whenever  a  woman  is  exception- 
ally beautiful  she  generally  gets  reported  as 
'  improper '  by  her  own  sex ;  especially  if 
she  has  a  fascinating  manner  and  dresses 
well." 

"  So    true,"    and    Lady   Fulkeward   sim- 


ZISKA  93 

pered.  "  Exactly  what  I  find  wherever  I 
go  !  Poor  dear  Ziska  !  She  has  to  pay  the 
penalty  for  captivating  all  you  men  in  the 
way  she  does.  I'm  sure  you  have  lost  your 
heart  to  her  quite  as  much  as  anybody  else, 
haven't  you  ?  " 

Courtney  reddened. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  he  answered  ;  "  I  ad- 
mire her  very  much,  but  I  haven't  lost  my 
heart.  .  .  ." 

"  Naughty  boy  !  Don't  prevaricate  !  "  and 
Lady  Fulkeward  smiled  in  the  bewitch- 
ing pearly  manner  her  admirably-made  arti- 
ficial teeth  allowed  her  to  do.  "  Every  man 
in  the  hotel  is  in  love  with  the  Princess,  and 
I'm  sure  I  don't  blame  them.  If  I  belonged 
to  your  sex  I  should  be  in  love  with  her  too. 
As  it  is,  I  am  in  love  with  the  new  arrival, 
that  glorious  creature,  Gervase.  He  is  su- 
perb !  He  looks  like  an  untamed  savage. 
I  adore  handsome  barbarians  !  " 

"  He's  scarcely  a  barbarian,  I  think,"  said 
Courtney,  with  some  amusement ;  "  he  is 
the  great  French  artist,  the  '  lion  '  of  Paris 
just  now, — only  secondary  to  Sarah  Bern- 
hardt." 

"  Artists  are  always  barbarians,"  declared 
Lady  Fulkeward  enthusiastically.  "  They 
paint  naughty  people  without  any  clothes 


94  ZISKA 

on  ;  they  never  have  any  idea  of  time  ;  they 
never  keep  their  appointments  ;  and  they 
are  always  falling  in  love  with  the  wrong 
person  and  getting  into  trouble,  which  is  so 
nice  of  them !  That's  why  I  worship  them 
all.  They  are  so  refreshingly  unlike  our 
set ! " 

Courtney  raised  his  eyebrows  inquiringly. 

"  You  know  what  I  mean  by  our  set," 
went  on  the  vivacious  old  "  Gainsborough," 
"  the  aristocrats  whose  conversation  is  limited 
to  the  weather  and  scandal,  and  who  are 
so  frightfully  dull !  Dull !  My  dear  Ross 
you  know  how  dull  they  are  1  " 

"Well,  upon  my  word,  they  are,"  admitted 
Courtney.  "  You  are  right  there.  I  cer- 
tainly agree  with  you." 

"  I'm  sure  you  do  !  They  have  no  ideas. 
Now,  artists  have  ideas, — they  live  on  ideas 
and  sentiment.  Sentiment  is  such  a  beau- 
tiful thing — so  charming !  I  believe  that 
fierce-looking  Gervase  is  a  creature  of  senti- 
ment— and  how  delightful  that  is!  Of 
course,  he'll  paint  the  Princess  Ziska — he 
'must  paint  her, — no  one  else  could  do  it  so 
well.  By  the  way,  have  you  been  asked  to 
her  great  party  next  week  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  And  are  you  going?  " 


ZISKA  95 

"  Most  assuredly." 

"  So  am  I.  That  absurd  Chetwynd  Lyle 
woman  came  to  me  this  evening  and  asked 
me  if  I  really  thought  it  would  be  proper  to 
take  her '  girls '  there,"  and  Lady  Fulkeward 
laughed  shrilly.  "  Girls  indeed  !  I  should 
say  those  two  long,  ugly  women  could  go 
anywhere  with  safety.  'Do  you  consider 
the  Princess  a  proper  woman?'  she  asked, 
and  I  said,  '  Certainly,  as  proper  as  you 
are.' " 

Courtney  laughed  outright,  and  began  to 
think  there  was  some  fun  in  Lady  Fulke- 
ward. 

"  By  Jove  !     Did  you  tell  her  that  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  I  did !  Oh,  I  know  a 
thing  or  two  about  the  Chetwynd  Lyles, 
but  I  keep  my  mouth  shut  till  it  suits  me  to 
open  it.  I  said  I  was  going,  and  then,  of 
course,  she  said  she  would." 

"  Naturally." 

And  Courtney  gave  the  answer  vaguely, 
for  the  waltz  was  ended,  and  the  Princess 
Ziska,  on  the  arm  of  Gervase,  was  leaving 
the  ball-room. 

"  She's  going,"  exclaimed  Lady  Fulke- 
ward. "  Dear  creature  !  Excuse  me — I 
must  speak  to  her  for  a  moment." 

And  with  a  swish  of  her  full  skirts  and  a 


96  ZISKA 

toss  of  her  huge  hat  and  feathers,  the  lively 
flirt  of  sixty  tripped  off  with  all  the  agility 
of  sixteen,  leaving  Courtney  to  follow  her  or 
remain  where  he  was,  just  as  he  chose.  He 
hesitated,  and  during  that  undecided  pause 
was  joined  by  Dr.  Maxwell  Dean. 

"  A  very  brilliant  and  interesting  even- 
ing ! "  said  that  individual,  smiling  compla- 
cently. "  I  don't  remember  any  time  when 
I  have  enjoyed  myself  so  thoroughly." 

"  Really  !  I  shouldn't  have  thought  you 
a  man  to  care  for  fancy-dress  balls,"  said 
Courtney. 

"  Shouldn't  you  ?  Ha  !  Well,  some  fancy- 
dress  balls  I  might  not  care  for,  but  this  one 
has  been  highly  productive  of  entertainment 
in  every  way,  and  several  incidents  connected 
with  it  have  opened  up  to  me  a  new  vista  of 
research,  the  possibilities  of  which  are — er 
— very  interesting  and  remarkable." 

"  Indeed  !  "  murmured  Courtney  indiffer- 
ently, his  eyes  fixed  on  the  slim,  supple 
figure  of  the  Princess  Ziska  as  she  slowly 
moved  amid  her  circle  of  admirers  out  of  the 
ball-room,  her  golden  skirts  gleaming  sun- 
like  against  the  polished  floor,  and  the  jewels 
about  her  flashing  in  vivid  points  of  light 
from  the  hem  of  her  robe  to  the  snake  in  her 
hair. 


ZISKA  97 

"  Yes,"  continued  the  Doctor,  smiling  and 
rubbing  his  hands,  "  I  think  I  have  got  the 
clue  to  a  very  interesting  problem.  But  I 
see  you  are  absorbed — and  no  wonder  !  A 
charming  woman,  the  Princess  Ziska — charm- 
ing !  Do  you  believe  in  ghosts?  " 

This  question  was  put  with  such  unex- 
pected abruptness  that  Courtney  was  quite 
taken  aback. 

"  Ghosts  ?  "  he  echoed.  "  No,  I  cannot 
say  I  do.  I  have  never  seen  one,  and  I  have 
never  heard  of  one  that  did  not  turn  out  a 
bogus." 

"  Oh !  I  don't  mean  the  usual  sort  of 
ghost,"  said  the  Doctor,  drawing  his  shelv- 
ing brows  together  in  a  meditative  knot  of 
criss-cross  lines  over  his  small,  speculative 
eyes.  "  The  ghost  that  is  common  to  Scotch 
castles  and  English  manor-houses,  and  that 
appears  in  an  orthodox  night-gown,  sighs, 
screams,  rattles  chains  and  bangs  doors  ad 
libitum.  No,  no  !  That  kind  of  ghost  is 
composed  of  indigestion,  aided  by  rats  and 
a  gust  of  wind.  No  ;  when  I  say  ghosts,  I 
mean  ghosts — ghosts  that  do  not  need  the 
midnight  hour  to  evolve  themselves  into  be- 
ing, and  that  by  no  means  vanish  at  cock- 
crow. My  ghosts  are  those  that  move  about 
among  us  in  social  intercourse  for  days, 
7 


98  ZISKA. 

months — sometimes  years — according  to 
their  several  missions ;  ghosts  that  talk  to 
us,  imitate  our  customs  and  ways,  shake 
hands  with  us,  laugh  and  dance  with  us,  and 
altogether  comport  themselves  like  human 
beings.  Those  are  my  kind  of  ghosts — 
'  scientific  '  ghosts.  There  are  hundreds,  aye, 
perhaps  thousands  of  them  in  the  world  at 
this  very  moment." 

An  uncomfortable  shudder  ran  through 
Courtney's  veins  ;  the  Doctor's  manner 
seemed  peculiar  and  uncanny. 

"  By  Jove  !  I  hope  not !  "  he  involuntarily 
exclaimed.  "  The  orthodox  ghost  is  an  in- 
finitely better  arrangement.  One  at  least 
knows  what  to  expect.  But  a  '  scientific ' 
ghost  that  moves  about  in  society,  resem- 
bling ourselves  in  every  respect,  appearing  to 
be  actually  human  and  yet  having  no  hu- 
manity at  all  in  its  composition,  is  a  terrific 
notion  indeed  !  You  don't  mean  to  say  you 
believe  in  the  possibility  of  such  an  appall- 
ing creature  ? " 

"  I  not  only  believe  it,"  answered  the 
Doctor  composedly,  "  I  know  it!  " 

Here  the  band  crashed  out "  God  save  the 
Queen,"  which,  as  a  witty  Italian  once  re- 
marked, is  the  De  Profundis  of  every  Eng- 
lish festivity. 


ZISKA  99 

"  But — God  bless  my  soul !  "  began  Court- 
ney. .  . 

"  No,  don't  say  that !  "  urged  the  Doctor. 
"  Say  '  God  save  the  Queen/  It's  more 
British." 

"  Bother  '  God  save  the  Queen,'  "  exclaim- 
ed Courtney  impatiently. — "  Look  here,  you 
don't  mean  it  seriously,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  always  mean  everything  seriously,"  said 
Dr.  Dean, — "  even  my  jokes." 

"  Now  come,  no  nonsense,  Doctor,"  and 
Courtney,  taking  his  arm,  led  him  towards 
one  of  the  windows  opening  out  to  the 
moonlit  garden, — "  can  you,  as  an  honest 
man,  assure  me  in  sober  earnest  that  there 
are  '  scientific  ghosts  '  of  the  nature  you 
describe  ?  " 

The  little  Doctor  surveyed  the  scenery, 
glanced  up  at  the  moon,  and  then  at  his 
companion's  pleasant  but  not  very  intelli- 
gent face. 

"  I  would  rather  not  discuss  the  matter," 
he  said  at  last,  with  some  brusqueness. 
"  There  are  certain  subjects  connected  with 
psychic  phenomena  on  which  it  is  best  to  be 
silent;  besides,  what  interest  can  such  things 
have  for  you  ?  You  are  a  sportsman, — keep 
to  your  big  game,  and  leave  ghost-hunting 
to  me." 


IOO  ZISKA 

"  That  is  not  a  fair  answer  to  my  ques- 
tion," said  Courtney,  "  I'm  sure  I  don't  want 
to  interfere  with  your  researches  in  any  way  ; 
I  only  want  to  know  if  it  is  a  fact  that  ghosts 
exist,  and  that  they  are  really  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  deserve  the  term  '  scientific.'  " 

Dr.  Dean  was  silent  a  moment.  Then, 
stretching  out  his  small,  thin  hand,  he  point- 
ed to  the  clear  sky,  where  the  stars  were 
almost  lost  to  sight  in  the  brilliance  of  the 
moon. 

"  Look  out  there !  "  he  said,  his  voice 
thrilling  with  sudden  and  solemn  fervor. 
"  There  in  the  limitless  ether  move  millions 
of  universes — vast  creations  which  our  finite 
brains  cannot  estimate  without  reeling, — 
enormous  forces  always  at  work,  in  the 
mighty  movements  of  which  our  earth  is 
nothing  more  than  a  grain  of  sand.  Yet  far 
more  marvellous  than  their  size  or  number 
is  the  mathematical  exactitude  of  their  pro- 
portions,— the  minute  perfection  of  their 
balance, — the  exquisite  precision  with  which 
every  one  part  is  fitted  to  another  part,  not 
a  pin's  point  awry,  not  a  hair's  breadth 
astray.  Well,  the  same  exactitude  which 
rules  the  formation  and  working  of  Matter 
controls  the  formation  and  working  of  Spirit ; 
and  this  is  why  I  know  that  ghosts  exist, 


ZISKA  IOI 

and,  moreover,  that  we  are  compelled  by  the 
laws  of  the  phenomena  surrounding  us  to 
meet  them  every  day." 

"  I  confess  I  do  not  follow  you  at  all," 
said  Courtney  bewildered. 

"  No,"  and  Dr.  Dean  smiled  curiously. 
"  I  have  perhaps  expressed  myself  obscurely. 
Yet  I  am  generally  considered  a  clear  ex- 
ponent. First  of  all,  let  me  ask  you,  do  you 
believe  in  the  existence  of  Matter  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  !  " 

"  You  do.  Then  you  will  no  doubt  admit 
that  there  is  Something — an  Intelligent 
Principle  or  Spiritual  Force — which  creates 
and  controls  this  Matter?" 

Courtney  hesitated. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  there  must  be,"  he  said 
at  last.  "  I'm  not  a  church-goer,  and  I'm 
rather  a  free-thinker,  but  I  certainly  believe 
there  is  a  Mind  at  work  behind  the  Matter." 

"  That  being  the  case,"  proceeded  the 
Doctor,  "  I  suppose  you  will  not  deny  to 
this  Invisible  Mind  the  same  exactitude  of 
proportion  and  precise  method  of  action 
already  granted  to  Visible  Matter?  " 

"  Of  course,  I  could  not  deny  such  a  rea- 
sonable proposition,"  said  Courtney. 

"  Very  good  !  Pursuing  the  argument  logi- 
cally, and  allowing  for  an  exactly-moving 


IO2  ZISKA 

Mind  behind  exactly-working  Matter,  it  fol- 
lows that  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  in- 
justice anywhere  in  the  universe  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Socrates  redivivus"  laughed 
Courtney,  "  I  fail  to  see  what  all  this  has  to 
do  with  ghosts." 

"  It  has  everything  to  do  with  them,"  de- 
clared the  Doctor  emphatically,  "  I  repeat 
that  if  we  grant  these  already  stated  pre- 
mises concerning  the  composition  of  Mind 
and  Matter,  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as 
injustice.  Yet  seemingly  unjust  things  are 
done  every  day,  and  seemingly  go  unpun- 
ished. I  say  '  seemingly  '  advisedly,  because 
the  punishment  is  always  administered.  And 
here  the '  scientific  ghosts '  come  in.  '  Venge- 
ance is  mine,'  saith  the  Lord, — and  the  ghosts 
I  speak  of  are  the  Lord's  way  of  doing  it." 

"  You  mean  ..."  began  Courtney. 

"  I  mean,"  continued  the  Doctor  with  some 
excitement,  "  that  the  sinner  who  imagines 
his  sins  are  undiscovered  is  a  fool  who  de- 
ceives himself.  I  mean  that  the  murderer 
who  has  secretly  torn  the  life  out  of  his 
shrieking  victim  in  some  unfrequented  spot, 
and  has  succeeded  in  hiding  his  crime  from 
what  we  call  'justice,'  cannot  escape  the 
Spiritual  law  of  vengeance.  What  would 
you  say,"  and  Dr.  Dean  laid  his  thin  fingers 


ZISKA  103 

on  Courtney's  coat-sleeve  with  a  light  pres- 
sure,— "  if  I  told  you  that  the  soul  of  a  mur- 
dered creature  is  often  sent  back  to  earth  in 
human  shape  to  dog  its  murderer  down? 
And  that  many  a  criminal  undiscovered  by 
the  police  is  haunted  by  a  seeming  Person, 
— a  man  or  a  woman, — who  is  on  terms  of 
intimacy  with  him, — who  eats  at  his  table, 
drinks  his  wine,  clasps  his  hand,  smiles  in  his 
face,  and  yet  is  truly  nothing  but  the  ghost 
of  his  victim  in  human  disguise,  sent  to 
drag  him  gradually  to  his  well-deserved, 
miserable  end  ;  what  would  you  say  to  such 
a  thing?" 

"  Horrible  !  "  exclaimed  Courtney,  recoil- 
ing. "  Beyond  everything  monstrous  and 
horrible  !  " 

The  Doctor  smiled  and  withdrew  his  hand 
from  his  companion's  arm. 

"  There  are  a  great  many  horrible  things 
in  the  universe  as  well  as  pleasant  ones,"  he 
observed  dryly.  "  Crime  and  its  results  are 
always  of  a  disagreeable  nature.  But  we  can- 
not alter  the  psychic  law  of  equity  any  more 
than  we  can  alter  the  material  law  of 
gravitation.  It  is  growing  late  ;  I  think,  if 
you  will  excuse  me,  I  will  go  to  bed." 

Courtney  look  at  him  puzzled  and  baffled. 

"  Then  your  '  scientific  ghosts '  are  positive 


104  ZISKA 

realities  ?  "  he  began  ;  here  he  gave  a  violent 
start  as  a  tall  white  figure  suddenly  moved 
out  of  the  shadows  in  the  garden  and  came 
slowly  towards  them.  "  Upon  my  life,  Doc- 
tor, you  have  made  me  quite  nervous  !  " 

"  No,  no,  surely  not,"  smiled  the  Doctor 
pleasantly — "  not  nervous!  Not  such  a 
brave  killer  of  game  as  you  are  !  No,  no ! 
You  don't  take  Monsieur  Armand  Gervase 
for  a  ghost,  do  you  ?  He  is  too  substantial, 
— far  too  substantial !  Ha !  ha !  ha  !  " 

And  he  laughed  quietly,  the  wrinkled 
smile  still  remaining  on  his  face  as  Gervase 
approached. 

"  Everybody  is  going  to  bed,"  said  the 
great  artist  lazily.  "  With  the  departure  of 
the  Princess  Ziska,  the  pleasures  of  the  even- 
ing are  ended." 

"  She  is  certainly  the  belle  of  Cairo  this 
season,"  said  Courtney,  "  but  I  tell  you  what, 
— I  am  rather  sorry  to  see  young  Murray  has 
lost  his  head  about  her." 

"  Parbleu  !  So  am  I,"  said  Gervase  imper- 
turbably  ;  "  it  seems  a  pity." 

"  He  will  get  over  it,"  interposed  Dr.  Dean 
placidly.  "  It's  an  illness, — like  typhoid, — 
we  must  do  all  we  can  to  keep  down  the 
temperature  of  the  patient,  and  we  shall  pull 
him  through." 


ZISKA  IO5 

"  Keep  him  cool,  in  short !  "  laughed  Ger- 
vase. 

"  Exactly  !  "  The  little  Doctor  smiled 
shrewdly.  "  You  look  feverish,  Monsieur 
Gervase." 

Gervase  flushed  red  under  his  dark  skin. 

"  I  daresay  I  am  feverish,"  he  replied 
irritably, — "  I  find  this  place  hot  as  an  oven. 
I  think  I  should  go  away  to-morrow  if  I  had 
not  asked  the  Princess  Ziska  to  sit  to  me." 

"  You  are  going  to  paint  her  picture  ?  " 
exclaimed  Courtney.  "  By  Jove  !  I  con- 
gratulate you.  It  will  be  the  masterpiece 
of  the  next  salon." 

Gervase  bowed. 

"  You  flatter  me  !  The  Princess  is  un- 
doubtedly an  attractive  subject.  But,  as  I 
said  before,  this  place  stifles  me.  I  think 
the  hotel  is  too  near  the  river, — there  is  an 
oozy  smell  from  the  Nile  that  I  hate,  and 
the  heat  is  perfectly  sulphureous.  Don't 
you  find  it  so,  Doctor?" 

"  N-n-o  !  I  cannot  say  that  I  do.  Let  me 
feel  your  pulse  ;  I  am  not  a  medical  man — 
but  I  can  easily  recognize  any  premonitions 
of  illness." 

Gervase  held  out  his  long,  brown,  well- 
shaped  hand,  and  the  savant's  small,  cool  fin- 
gers pressed  lightly  on  his  wrist. 


106  ZISKA 

"You  are  quite  well,  Monsieur  Gervase," 
he  said  after  a  pause, — "  You  have  a  little 
sur-excitation  of  the  nerves,  certainly, — but 
it  is  not  curable  by  medicine."  He  dropped 
the  hand  he  held,  and  looked  up — "  Good- 
night ! " 

"  Good-night ! "  responded  Gervase. 

"  Good-night !  "  added  Courtney. 

And  with  an  amiable  salutation  the  Doctor 
went  his  way.  The  ball-room  was  now  quite 
deserted,  and  the  hotel  servants  were  extin- 
guishing the  lights. 

"  A  curious  little  man,  that  Doctor,"  ob- 
served Gervase,addressing  Courtney,to  whom 
as  yet  he  had  not  been  formally  introduced. 

"  Very  curious  !  "  was  the  reply.  "  I  have 
known  him  for  some  years, — he  is  a  very 
clever  man,  but  I  have  never  been  able  quite 
to  make  him  out.  I  think  he  is  a  bit  eccentric. 
He's  just  been  telling  me  he  believes  in 
ghosts." 

"  Ah,  poor  fellow !  "  and  Gervase  yawned 
as,  with  his  companion,  he  crossed  the  de- 
serted ball-room.  "  Then  he  has  what  you 
call  a  screw  loose.  I  suppose  it  is  that  which 
makes  him  interesting.  Good-night !  " 

"  Good-night ! " 

And  separating,  they  went  their  several 
ways  to  the  small,  cell-like  bedrooms,  which 


ZISKA  107 

are  the  prime  discomfort  of  the  Gezireh 
Palace  Hotel,  and  soon  a  great  silence  reigned 
throughout  the  building.  All  Cairo  slept, — 
save  where  at  an  open  lattice  window  the 
moon  shone  full  on  a  face  up-turned  to  her 
silver  radiance, — the  white,  watchful  face, 
and  dark,  sleepless  eyes  of  the  Princess 
Ziska. 


108  ZISKA 


CHAPTER  VI. 

NEXT  day  the  ordinary  course  of  things 
was  resumed  at  the  Gezireh  Palace  Hotel, 
and  the  delights  and  flirtations  of  the  fancy- 
ball  began  to  vanish  into  what  Hans  Breit- 
mann  calls  "  the  ewigkeit"  Men  were  lazier 
than  usual  and  came  down  later  to  breakfast, 
and  girls  looked  worn  and  haggard  with 
over-much  dancing,  but  otherwise  there  was 
no  sign  to  indicate  that  the  festivity  of  the 
past  evening  had  left  "  tracks  behind,"  or 
made  a  lasting  impression  of  importance 
on  any  human  life.  Lady  Chetwynd  Lyle, 
portly  and  pig-faced,  sat  on  the  terrace 
working  at  an  elaborate  piece  of  cross- 
stitch,  talking  scandal  in  the  civilest  tone 
imaginable,  and  damning  all  her  "dear 
friends "  with  that  peculiar  air  of  entire 
politeness  and  good  breeding  which  dis- 
tinguishes certain  ladies  when  they  are  say- 
ing nasty  things  about  one  another.  Her 
daughters,  Muriel  and  Dolly,  sat  dutifully 
near  her,  one.  reading  the  Daily  Dial,  as  be- 


ZISKA  lOQ 

fitted  the  offspring  of  the  editor  and  pro- 
prietor thereof,  the  other  knitting.  Lord 
Fulkeward  lounged  on  the  balustrade  close 
by,  and  his  lovely  mother,  attired  in  quite 
a  charming  and  girlish  costume  of  white 
foulard  exquisitely  cut  and  fitting  into  a 
waist  not  measuring  more  than  twenty-two 
inches,  reclined  in  a  long  deck-chair,  looking 
the  very  pink  of  painted  and  powdered  per- 
fection. 

"You  are  so  very  lenient,"  Lady  Chet- 
wynd  Lyle  was  saying,  as  she  bent  over  her 
needlework.  "  So  very  lenient,  my  dear 
Lady  Fulkeward,  that  I  am  afraid  you  do 
not  read  people's  characters  as  correctly  as 
I  do.  I  have  had,  owing  to  my  husband's 
position  in  journalism,  a  great  deal  of  social 
experience,  and  I  assure  you  I  do  not  think 
the  Princess  Ziska  a  safe  person.  She  may 
be  perfectly  proper — she  may  be — but  she 
is  not  the  style  we  are  accustomed  to  in 
London." 

"  I  should  rather  think  not !  "  interrupted 
Lord  Fulkeward,  hastily.  "  By  Jove  !  She 
wouldn't  have  a  hair  left  on  her  head  in 
London,  don'cher  know  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  inquired  Muriel 
Chetwynd  Lyle,  simpering.  "  You  really  do 
say  such  funny  things,  Lord  Fulkeward  !  " 


1 10  ZISKA 

"  Do  I  ?"  and  the  young  nobleman  was  so 
alarmed  and  embarrassed  at  the  very  idea 
of  his  ever  saying  funny  things  that  he  was 
rendered  quite  speechless  for  a  moment. 
Anon  he  took  heart  and  resumed :  "  Er — 
well — I  mean  that  the  society  women  would 
tear  her  to  bits  in  no  time.  She'd  get  asked 
nowhere,  but  she'd  get  blackguarded  every- 
where ;  she  couldn't  help  herself  with  that 
face  and  those  eyes." 

His  mother  laughed. 

"  Dear  Fulke !  You  are  such  a  naughty 
boy !  You  shouldn't  make  such  remarks 
before  Lady  Lyle.  She  never  says  any- 
thing against  anyone ! " 

"  Dear  Fulke  "  stared.  Had  he  given 
vent  to  his  feelings  he  would  have  ex- 
claimed :  "  Oh,  Lord ! — isn't  the  old  lady 
a  deep  one ! "  But  as  it  was  he  attended 
to  his  young  moustache  anxiously  and  re- 
mained silent.  Lady  Chetwynd  Lyle  mean- 
while flushed  with  annoyance ;  she  felt  that 
Lady  Fulkeward's  remark  was  sarcastic,  but 
she  could  not  very  well  resent  it,  seeing  that 
Lady  Fulkeward  was  a  peeress  of  the  realm, 
and  that  she  herself,  by  the  strict  laws  of 
heraldry,  was  truly  only  "  Dame  "  Chetwynd 
Lyle,  as  wife  of  an  ordinary  knight,  and  had 
no  business  to  be  called  "  her  ladyship  "  at  all. 


ZISKA  1 1 1 

"  I  should,  indeed,  be  sorry,"  she  said, 
primly,  "  if  I  were  mistaken  in  my  private 
estimate  of  the  Princess  Ziska's  character, 
but  I  must  believe  my  own  eyes  and  the 
evidence  of  my  own  senses,  and  surely  no 
one  can  condone  the  extremely  fast  way  in 
which  she  behaved  with  that  new  man — 
that  French  artist,  Armand  Gervase — last 
night.  Why,  she  danced  six  times  with 
him  !  And  she  actually  allowed  him  to 
walk  home  with  her  through  the  streets  of 
Cairo !  They  went  off  together,  in  their 
fancy  dresses,  just  as  they  were !  I  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing  !  " 

"  Oh,  there  was  nothing  remarkable  at  all 
in  that,"  said  Lord  Fulkeward.  "  Every- 
body  went  about  the  place  in  fancy  costume 
last  night.  I  went  out  in  my  Neapolitan 
dress  with  a  girl,  and  I  met  Denzil  Murray 
coming  down  a  street  just  behind  here — 
took  him  for  a  Florentine  prince,  upon  my 
word !  And  I  bet  you  Gervase  never  got 
beyond  the  door  of  the  Princess's  palace  ; 
for  that  blessed  old  Nubian  she  keeps — the 
chap  with  a  face  like  a  mummy — bangs  the 
gate  in  everybody's  face,  and  says  in  gut- 
tural French  :  '  La  Princesse  ne  volt  per-r-r- 
sonne ! '  I've  tried  it.  I  tell  you  it's  no 
go  !  " 


112  ZISKA 

"  Well,  we  shall  all  get  inside  the  mysteri- 
ous palace  next  Wednesday  evening,"  said 
Lady  Fulkeward,  closing  her  eyes  with  a 
graceful  air  of  languor.  "  It  will  be  charm- 
ing, I  am  sure,  and  I  daresay  we  shall  find 
that  there  is  no  mystery  at  all  about  it." 

"  Two  months  ago,"  suddenly  said  a 
smooth  voice  behind  them,  "the  Ziska's 
house  or  palace  was  uninhabited." 

Lady  Fulkeward  gave  a  little  scream  and 
looked  round. 

"  Good  gracious,  Dr.  Dean  !  How  you 
frightened  me !  " 

The  Doctor  made  an  apologetic  bow. 

"  I  am  very  sorry.  I  forgot  you  were  so 
sensitive  ;  pray  pardon  me !  As  I  was  say- 
ing, two  months  ago  the  palace  of  the  Prin- 
cess Ziska  was  a  deserted  barrack.  Formerly, 
so  I  hear,  it  used  to  be  the  house  of  some 
great  personage ;  but  it  had  been  allowed  to 
fall  into  decay,  and  nobody  would  rent  it, 
even  for  the  rush  of  the  Cairene  season, 
till  it  was  secured  by  the  Nubian  you  were 
speaking  of  just  now — the  interesting  Nubian 
with  the  face  like  a  mummy  ;  he  took  it  and 
furnished  it,  and  when  it  was  ready  Madame 
la  Princesse  appeared  on  the  scene  and  has 
resided  there  every  since." 

"  I    wonder    what    that   Nubian   has   to 


ZISKA  113 

do  with  her?"  said  Lady  Chetwynd  Lyle, 
severely. 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  replied  the  Doctor, 
calmly.  "  He  is  the  merest  servant — the 
kind  of  person  who  is  *  told  off '  to  attend 
on  the  women  of  a  harem." 

"  Ah,  I  see  you  have  been  making  inquiries 
concerning  the  princess,  Doctor,"  said  Lady 
Fulkeward,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  have." 

"  And  have  you  found  out  anything  about 
her?" 

"  No ;  that  is,  nothing  of  social  importance, 
except,  perhaps,  two  items — first,  that  she 
is  not  a  Russian  ;  secondly,  that  she  has 
never  been  married." 

"  Never  been  married  !  "  exclaimed  Lady 
Chetwynd  Lyle,  then  suddenly  turning  to 
her  daughters  she  said  blandly  :  "  Muriel, 
Dolly,  go  into  the  house,  my  dears.  It  is 
getting  rather  warm  for  you  on  this  terrace. 
I  will  join  you  in  a  few  minutes." 

The  "  girls "  rose  obediently  with  a  de- 
lightfully innocent  and  juvenile  air,  and 
fortunately  for  them  did  not  notice  the  irrev- 
erent smile  that  played  on  young  Lord  Fulke- 
ward's  face,  which  was  immediately  reflected 
on  the  artistically  tinted  countenance  of  his 
mother,  at  the  manner  of  their  dismissal. 


114  ZISKA 

"  There  is  surely  nothing  improper  in  never 
having  been  married,"  said  Dr.  Dean,  with  a 
mock  serious  air.  "  Consider,  my  dear  Lady 
Lyle,  is  there  not  something  very  chaste  and 
beautiful  in  the  aspect  of  an  old  maid  ?  " 

Lady  Lyle  looked  up  sharply.  She  had 
an  idea  that  both  she  and  her  daughters  were 
being  quizzed,  and  she  had  some  difficulty 
to  control  her  rising  temper. 

"  Then  do  you  call  the  Princess  an  old 
maid  ?  "  she  demanded. 

Lady  Fulkeward  looked  amused ;  her  son 
laughed  outright.  But  the  Doctor's  face 
was  perfectly  composed. 

"  I  don't  know  what  else  I  can  call  her," 
he  said,  with  a  thoughtful  air.  "  She  is  no 
longer  in  her  teens,  and  she  has  too  much 
voluptuous  charm  for  an  ingenue.  Still,  I 
admit,  you  would  scarcely  call  her  '  old '  ex- 
cept in  the  parlance  of  the  modern  matri- 
monial market.  Our  present-day  route,  you 
know,  prefer  their  victims  young,  and  I  fancy 
the  Princess  Ziska  would  be  too  old  and 
perhaps  too  clever  for  most  of  them.  Person- 
ally speaking,  she  does  not  impress  me  as 
being  of  any  particular  age,  but  as  she  is  not 
married,  and  is,  so  to  speak,  a  maid  fully 
developed,  I  am  perforce  obliged  to  call  her 
an  old  maid." 


ZISKA  115 

"  She  wouldn't  thank  you  for  the  com- 
pliment," said  Lady  Lyle  with  a  spiteful 
grin. 

"  I  daresay  not,"  responded  the  Doctor 
blandly,  "  but  I  imagine  she  has  very  little 
personal  vanity.  Her  mind  is  too  preoccu- 
pied with  something  more  important  than 
the  consideration  of  her  own  good  looks." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?  "  inquired  Lady 
Fulkeward,  with  some  curiosity. 

"Ah!  there  is  the  difficulty!  What  is 
it  that  engrosses  our  fair  friend  more  than 
the  looking-glass  ?  I  should  like  to  know — 
but  I  cannot  find  out.  It  is  an  enigma  as 
profound  as  that  of  the  sphinx.  Good- 
morning,  Monsieur  Gervase  !  " — and,  turning 
round,  he  addressed  the  artist,  who  just  then 
stepped  out  on  the  terrace  carrying  a  paint- 
box and  a  large  canvas  strapped  together  in 
portable  form.  "  Are  you  going  to  sketch 
some  picturesque  corner  of  the  city  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Gervase,  listlessly  raising 
his  white  sun-hat  to  the  ladies  present  with 
a  courteous,  yet  somewhat  indifferent  grace. 
"  I'm  going  to  the  Princess  Ziska's.  I  shall 
probably  get  the  whole  outline  of  her  fea- 
tures this  morning." 

"  A  full-length  portrait  ?  "  inquired  the 
Doctor. 


Il6  ZISKA 

"  I  fancy  not.  Not  the  first  attempt,  at 
any  rate — head  and  shoulders  only." 

"Do  you  know  where  her  house  is?" 
asked  Lord  Fulkeward.  "  If  you  don't,  I'll 
walk  with  you  and  show  you  the  way." 

"  Thanks — you  are  very  good.  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  you." 

And  raising  his  hat  again  he  sauntered 
slowly  off,  young  Fulkeward  walking  with 
him  and  chatting  to  him  with  more  anima- 
tion than  that  exhausted  and  somewhat 
vacant-minded  aristocrat  usually  showed  to 
anyone. 

"  It  is  exceedingly  warm,"  said  Lady 
Lyle,  rising  then  and  putting  away  her  cross- 
stitch  apparatus,  "  I  thought  of  driving  to  the 
Pyramids  this  afternoon,  but  really  .  .  ." 

"  There  is  shade  all  the  way,"  suggested 
the  Doctor,  "  I  said  as  much  to  a  young 
woman  this  morning  who  has  been  in  the 
hotel  for  nearly  two  months,  and  hasn't  seen 
the  Pyramids  yet." 

"  What  has  she  been  doing  with  herself  ?  " 
asked  Lady  Fulkeward,  smiling. 

"  Dancing  with  officers,"  said  Dr.  Dean. 
"  How  can  Cheops  compare  with  a  mous- 
tached  noodle  in  military  uniform  !  Good- 
bye for  the  present ;  I'm  going  to  hunt  for 
scarabei." 


ZISKA  II/ 

"  I  thought  you  had  such  a  collection  of 
them  already,"  said  Lady  Lyle. 

"  So  I  have.  But  the  Princess  had  a  re- 
markable one  on  last  night,  and  I  want  to 
find  another  like  it.  It's  blue — very  blue — 
almost  like  a  rare  turquoise,  and  it  appears  it 
is  the  sign-manual  of  the  warrior  Araxes,  who 
was  a  kind  of  king  in  his  way,  or  desert  chief, 
which  was  about  the  same  thing  in  those 
days.  He  fought  for  Amenhotep,  and 
seemed  from  all  accounts  to  be  a  greater  man 
than  Amenhotep  himself.  The  Princess 
Ziska  is  a  wonderful  Egyptologist ;  I  had  a 
most  interesting  conversation  with  her  last 
night  in  the  supper-room." 

"  Then  she  is  really  a  woman  of  culture 
and  intelligence  ?  "  queried  Lady  Lyle. 

The  Doctor  smiled. 

"  I  should  say  she  would  be  a  great  deal 
too  much  for  the  University  of  Oxford,  as 
far  as  Oriental  learning  goes,"  he  said.  "  She 
can  read  the  Egyptian  papyri,  she  tells  me, 
and  she  can  decipher  anything  on  any  of  the 
monuments.  I  only  wish  I  could  persuade 
her  to  accompany  me  to  Thebes  and 
Karnak." 

Lady  Fulkeward  unfurled  her  fan  and 
swayed  it  to  and  fro  with  an  elegant  languor. 

"  How  delightful  that  would  be  ! "    she 


118  ZISKA 

sighed.  "  So  romantic  and  solemn — all  those 
dear  old  cities  with  those  marvellous  figures 
of  the  Egyptians  carved  and  painted  on  the 
stones!  And  Rameses — dearRameses!  He 
really  has  good  legs  everywhere  !  Haven't 
you  noticed  that  ?  So  many  of  these  ancient 
sculptures  represent  the  Egyptians  with 
such  angular  bodies  and  such  frightfully  thin 
legs,  but  Rameses  always  has  good  legs 
wherever  you  find  him.  It's  so  refreshing  ! 
Do  make  up  a  party,  Dr.  Dean! — we'll  all 
go  with  you  ;  and  I'm  sure  the  Princess 
Ziska  will  be  the  most  charming  companion 
possible.  Let  us  have  a  dahabeah  !  I'm 
good  for  half  the  expenses,  if  you  will  only 
arrange  everything." 

The  Doctor  stroked  his  chin  and  looked 
dubious,  but  he  was  evidently  attracted  by 
the  idea. 

"  I'll  see  about  it,"  he  said  at  last. 
"  Meanwhile  I'll  go  and  have  a  hunt  for  some 
traces  of  Amenhotep  and  Araxes." 

He  strolled  down  the  terrace,  and  Lady 
Chetwynd  Lyle,  turning  her  back  on  "  old  " 
Lady  Fulkeward,  went  after  her  "  girls," 
while  the  fascinating  Fulkeward  herself  con- 
tinued to  recline  comfortably  in  her  chair, 
and  presently  smiled  a  welcome  on  a  young, 
ish-looking  man  with  a  fair  moustache  who 


ZISKA  Iig 

came  forward  and  sat  down  beside  her,  talk- 
ing to  her  in  low,  tender  and  confidential 
tones.  He  was  the  very  impecunious  colonel 
of  one  of  the  regiments  then  stationed  in 
Cairo,  and  as  he  never  wasted  time  on  senti- 
ment, he  had  been  lately  thinking  that  a 
marriage  with  a  widowed  peeress  who  had 
twenty  thousand  pounds  a  year  in  her  own 
right  might  not  be  a  "  half  bad  "  arrange- 
ment for  him.  So  he  determined  to  do  the 
agreeable,  and  as  he  was  a  perfect  adept 
in  the  art  of  making  love  without  feeling  it, 
he  got  on  very  well,  and  his  prospects 
brightened  steadily  hour  by  hour. 

Meanwhile  young  Fulkeward  was  escort- 
ing Armand  Gervase  through  several  narrow 
by-streets,  talking  to  him  as  well  as  he  knew 
how  and  trying  in  his  feeble  way  to  "  draw 
him  out,"  in  which  task  he  met  with  but 
indifferent  success. 

"  It  must  be  awfully  jolly  and — er — all 
that  sort  of  thing  to  be  so  famous,"  he  ob- 
served, glancing  up  at  the  strong,  dark, 
brooding  face  above  him.  "  They  had  a 
picture  of  yours  over  in  London  once  ;  I  went 
to  see  it  with  my  mother.  It  was  called 
'  Le  Poignardj  do  you  remember  it  ?  " 

Gervase  shrugged  his  shoulders  carelessly. 

"  Yes,  I  remember.     A  poor  thing  at  its 


I2O  ZISKA 

best.  It  was  a  woman  with  a  dagger  in  her 
hand." 

"  Yes,  awfully  fine,  don'cher  know !  She 
was  a  very  dark  woman — too  dark  for  my 
taste, — and  she'd  got  a  poignard  clasped  in 
in  her  right  hand.  Of  course,  she  was  going 
to  murder  somebody  with  it ;  that  was  plain 
enough.  You  meant  it  so,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  I  did." 

"She  was  in  a  sort  of  Eastern  get-up," 
pursued  Fulkeward,  "  one  of  your  former 
studies  in  Egypt,  perhaps." 

Gervase  started,  and  passed  his  hand  across 
his  forehead  with  a  bewildered  air. 

"  No,  no  !  Not  a  former  study,  by  any 
means.  How  could  it  be  ?  This  is  my  first 
visit  to  Egypt.  I  have  never  been  here 
before." 

"  Haven't  you  ?  Really  !  Well,  you'll 
find  it  awfully  interesting  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing.  I  don't  see  half  as  much  of  it  as 
I  should  like.  I'm  a  weak  chap — got  some- 
thing wrong  with  my  lungs, — awful  bother, 
but  can't  be  helped.  My  mother  won't  let 
me  do  too  much.  Here  we  are  ;  this  is  the 
Princess  Ziska's." 

They  were  standing  in  a  narrow  street 
ending  in  a  cul-de-sac,  with  tall  houses  on 
each  side  which  cast  long,  black,  melancholy 


ZISKA  121 

shadows  on  the  rough  pavement  below.  A 
vague  sense  of  gloom  and  oppression  stole 
over  Gervase  as  he  surveyed  the  outside  of 
the  particular  dwelling  Fulkeward  pointed 
out  to  him — a  square,  palatial  building,  which 
had  no  doubt  once  been  magnificent  in  its 
exterior  adornment,  but  which  now,  owing 
to  long  neglect,  had  fallen  into  somewhat 
melancholy  decay.  The  sombre  portal,  fan- 
tastically ornamented  with  designs  copied 
from  some  of  the  Egyptian  monuments, 
rather  resembled  the  gateway  of  a  tomb 
than  an  entrance  to  the  private  residence  of 
a  beautiful  living  woman,  and  Fulkeward, 
noting  his  companion's  silence,  added : 

"  Not  a  very  cheerful  corner,  is  it  ?  Some 
of  these  places  are  regular  holes,  don'cher 
know ;  but  I  daresay  it's  all  right  inside." 

"  You  have  never  been  inside  ?  " 

"  Never."  And  Fulkeward  lowered  his 
voice :  "  Look  up  there ;  there's  the  beast 
that  keeps  everybody  out !  " 

Gervase  followed  his  glance,  and  perceived 
behind  the  projecting  carved  lattice-work  of 
one  of  the  windows  a  dark,  wrinkled  face 
and  two  gleaming  eyes  which,  even  at  that 
distance,  had,  or  appeared  to  have,  a  some- 
what sinister  expression. 

"  He's  the  nastiest  type  of  Nubian  I  have 


122  ZISKA 

ever  seen,"  pursued  Fulkeward.  "  Looks  just 
like  a  galvanized  corpse." 

Gervase  smiled,  and  perceiving' a  long  bell- 
handle  at  the  gateway,  pulled  it  sharply. 
In  another  moment  the  Nubian  appeared, 
his  aspect  fully  justifying  Lord  Fulkeward's 
description  of  him.  The  parchment-like  skin 
on  his  face  was  yellowish-black,  and  wrinkled 
in  a  thousand  places  ;  his  lips  were  of  a  livid 
blue,  and  were  drawn  up  and  down  above 
and  below  the  teeth  in  a  kind  of  fixed  grin, 
while  the  dense  brilliance  of  his  eyes  was 
so  fierce  and  fiery  as  to  suggest  those  of 
some  savage  beast  athirst  for  prey. 

"Madame  la  Princesse  Ziska"  began  Ger- 
vase, addressing  his  unfascinating  object 
with  apparent  indifference  to  his  hideousness. 

The  Nubian's  grinning  lips  stretched  them- 
selves wider  apart  as,  in  a  thick,  snarling 
voice  he  demanded : 

"  Votre  nom  ?  " 

"  Armand  Gervase." 

"  Entrez  !  " 

"  Et  moi?"  queried  Fulkeward,  with  a 
conciliatory  smile. 

"  Non  !  Pas  vous.  Monsieur  Armand 
Gervase,  seul !  " 

Fulkeward  gave  a  resigned  shrug  of  his 
shoulders ;  Gervase  looked  round  at  him  ere 


ZISKA  123 

he  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  mysterious 
habitation. 

"  I'm  sorry  you  have  to  walk  back  alone." 

"  Don't  mention  it,"  said  Fulkeward 
affably.  "  You  see,  you  have  come  on  busi- 
ness. You're  going  to  paint  the  Princess's 
picture  ;  and  I  daresay  this  blessed  old  rascal 
knows  that  I  want  nothing  except  to  look  at 
his  mistress  and  wonder  what  she's  made  of." 

"  What  she's  made  of  ?  "  echoed  Gervase 
in  surprise.  "  Don't  you  think  she's  made 
like  other  women  ?  " 

"  No ;  can't  say  I  do.  She  seems  all  fire 
and  vapor  and  eyes  in  the  middle,  don'cher 
know.  Oh,  I'm  an  ass — always  was — but 
that's  the  feeling  she  gives  me.  Ta-ta ! 
Wish  you  a  pleasant  morning !  " 

He  nodded  and  strolled  away,  and  Gervase 
hesitated  yet  another  moment,  looking  full 
at  the  Nubian,  who  returned  him  stare  for 
stare. 

"  Maintenant  ?"  he  began. 

"  Out,  maintenant"  echoed  the  Nubian. 

"  La  Prmcesse,  oh  est  elle  ?  " 

"  L&  !  "  and  the  Nubian  pointed  down  a 
long,  dark  passage  beyond  which  there 
seemed  to  be  the  glimmer  of  green  palms 
and  other  foliage.  Elle  vous  attend,  Mon- 
sieur Armand Gervase  !  Entrez  /  Suivez  /  " 


124  ZISKA 

Slowly  Gervase  passed  in,  and  the  great 
tomb-like  door  closed  upon  him  with  a  heavy 
clang.  The  whole  long,  bright  day  passed, 
and  he  did  not  reappear ;  not  a  human  foot 
crossed  the  lonely  street  and  nothing  was 
seen  there  all  through  the  warm  sunshiny 
hours  save  the  long,  black  shadows  on  the 
pavement,  which  grew  longer  and  darker  as 
the  evening  fell. 


ZISKA  125 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WITHIN  the  palace  of  the  Princess  Ziska 
a  strange  silence  reigned.  In  whatever  way 
the  business  of  her  household  was  carried  on, 
it  was  evidently  with  the  most  absolute 
noiselessness,  for  not  a  sound  disturbed  the 
utter  stillness  environing  her.  She  herself, 
clad  in  white  garments  that  clung  about  her 
closely,  displaying  the  perfect  outlines  of  her 
form,  stood  waiting  for  her  guest  in  a  room 
that  was  fairly  dazzling  to  the  eye  in  its  pro- 
fusion of  exquisitely  assorted  and  harmonized 
colors,  as  well  as  impressive  to  the  mind  in 
its  suggestions  of  the  past  rather  than  of 
the  present.  Quaint  musical  instruments  of 
the  fashion  of  thousands  of  years  ago  hung 
on  the  walls  or  lay  on  brackets  and  tables, 
but  no  books  such  as  our  modern  time  pro- 
duces were  to  be  seen  ;  only  tied-up  bundles 
of  papyri  and  curious  little  tablets  of 
clay  inscribed  with  mysterious  hieroglyphs. 
Flowers  adorned  every  corner — many  of 
them  strange  blossoms  which  a  connoisseur 
would  have  declared  to  be  unknown  in 


126  ZISKA 

Egypt, — palms  and  ferns  and  foliage  of  every 
description  were  banked  up  against  the  walls 
in  graceful  profusion,  and  from  the  latticed 
windows  the  light  filtered  through  colored 
squares,  giving  a  kind  of  rainbow-effect  to 
the  room,  as  though  it  were  a  scene  in  a 
dream  rather  than  a  reality.  And  even  more 
dream-like  than  her  surroundings  was  the 
woman  who  awaited  the  approach  of  her 
visitor,  her  eyes  turned  towards  the  door — 
fiery  eyes  filled  with  such  ardent  watchful- 
ness as  seemed  to  burn  the  very  air.  The 
eyes  of  a  hawk  gleaming  on  its  prey, — the 
eyes  of  a  famished  tiger  in  the  dark,  were 
less  fraught  with  terrific  meaning  than  the 
eyes  of  Ziska  as  she  listened  attentively  to 
the  on-coming  footsteps  through  the  outside 
corridor  which  told  her  that  Gervase  was 
near. 

"  At  last !  "  she  whispered,  "  at  last !  " 
The  next  moment  the  Nubian  flung  the 
door  wide  open  and  announced  "  Monsieur 
Armand  Gervase ! " 

She  advanced  with  all  the  wonderful  grace 
which  distinguished  her,  holding  out  both 
her  slim,  soft  hands.  Gervase  caught  them 
in  his  own  and  kissed  them  fervently,  where- 
upon the  Nubian  retired,  closing  the  door 
after  him. 


ZISKA  127 

"You  are  very  welcome,  Monsieur  Ger- 
vase,"  said  the  Princess  then,  speaking  with 
a  measured  slowness  that  was  attractive  as 
well  as  soothing  to  the  ear.  "You  have 
left  all  the  dear  English  people  well  at  the 
Gezireh  Palace  ?  Lady  Fulkeward  was  not 
too  tired  after  her  exertions  at  the  ball? 
And  you  ?" 

But  Gervase  was  gazing  at  her  in  a  speech- 
less confusion  of  mind  too  great  for  words. 
A  sudden,  inexplicable  emotion  took  pos- 
session of  him, — an  emotion  to  which  he 
could  give  no  name,  but  which  stupefied 
him  and  held  him  mute.  Was  it  her  beauty 
which  so  dazzled  his  senses  ?  Was  it  some 
subtle  perfume  in  the  room  that  awoke  a 
dim  haunting  memory  ?  Or  what  was  it 
that  seemed  so  strangely  familiar?  He 
struggled  with  himself,  and  finally  spoke 
out  his  thought : 

"  I  have  seen  you  before,  Princess ;  I  am 
quite  sure  I  have  !  I  thought  I  had  last 
night ;  but  to-day  I  am  positive  about  it. 
Strange,  isn't  it  ?  I  wonder  where  we  really 
met  ?  " 

Her  dark  eyes  rested  on  him  fully. 

"  I  wonder !  "  she  echoed,  smiling.  "  The 
world  is  so  small,  and  so  many  people  now- 
adays make  the  '  grand  tour, '  that  it  is  not 


128  ZISKA 

at  all  surprising  we  should  have  passed  each 
other  en  route  through  our  journey  of  life." 

Gervase  still  hesitated,  glancing  about  him 
with  a  singularly  embarrassed  air,  while  she 
continued  to  watch  him  intently.  Presently 
his  sensations,  whatever  they  were,  passed 
off,  and  gradually  recovering  his  equanimity, 
he  became  aware  that  he  was  quite  alone 
with  one  of  the  most  fascinating  women 
he  had  ever  seen.  His  eyes  flashed,  and  he 
smiled. 

"  I  have  come  to  paint  your  picture,"  he 
said  softly.  "  Shall  I  begin  ?  " 

She  had  seated  herself  on  a  silken  divan, 
and  her  head  rested  against  a  pile  of  richly- 
embroidered  cushions.  Without  waiting 
for  her  answer,  he  threw  himself  down 
beside  her  and  caught  her  hand  in  his. 

"  Shall  I  paint  your  picture  ? "  he  whis- 
pered. "  Or  shall  I  make  love  to  you  ?  " 

She  laughed, — the  sweet,  low  laugh  that 
somehow  chilled  his  blood  while  it  charmed 
his  hearing. 

"  Whichever  you  please,"  she  answered. 
"  Both  performances  would  no  doubt  be 
works  of  art !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Can  you  not  understand?  If  you  paint 
my  picture  it  will  be  a  work  of  art.  If  you 


ZISKA  129 

make  love  to  me  it  will  equally  be  a  work  of 
art :  that  is,  a  composed  thing — an  elabo- 
rate study." 

"  Bah !  Love  is  not  a  composed  thing," 
said  Gervase,  leaning  closer  to  her.  "  It  is 
wild,  and  full  of  libertinage  as  the  sea." 

"And  equally  as  fickle,"  added  the  Prin 
cess  composedly,  taking  a  fan  of  feathers 
near  her  and  waving  it  to  and  fro.  "  Man's 
idea  of  love  is  to  take  all  he  can  get  from  a 
woman,  and  give  her  nothing  in  return  but 
misery  sometimes,  and  sometimes  death." 

"  You  do  not, — you  cannot  think  that !  " 
said  Gervase,  looking  at  her  dazzling  face 
with  a  passion  of  admiration  he  made  no 
attempt  to  conceal.  "  Men  on  the  whole 
are  not  as  cruel  or  as  treacherous  as  women. 
I  would  swear,  looking  at  you,  that,  beauti- 
ful as  you  are,  you  are  cruel,  and  that  is 
perhaps  why  I  love  you !  You  are  like  a 
splendid  tigress  waiting  to  be  tamed !  " 

"  And  you  think  you  could  tame  me  ?  " 
interposed  Ziska,  looking  at  him  with  an 
inscrutable  disdain  in  her  black  eyes. 

"  Yes,  if  you  loved  me  !  " 

"Ah,  possibly  !     But  then  it  happens  that 
I  do  not  love  you.     I  love  no  one.     I  have 
had  too  much  of  love ;  it  is  a  folly  I  have 
grown  weary  of!  " 
9 


130  ZISKA 

Gervase  fixed  his  eyes  on  her  with  an  au- 
dacious look  which  seemed  to  hint  that  he 
might  possibly  take  advantage  of  being  alone 
with  her  to  enforce  his  ideas  of  love  more 
eloquently  than  was  in  accordance  with  the 
proprieties.  She  perceived  his  humor, 
smiled,  and  coldly  gave  him  back  glance  for 
glance.  Then,  rising  from  the  divan,  she 
drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height  and  sur- 
veyed him  with  a  kind  of  indulgent  con- 
tempt. 

"You  are  an  uprincipled  man,  Armand 
Gervase,"  she  said ;  "  and  do  you  know  I 
fear  you  always  will  be !  A  cleansing  of 
your  soul  through  centuries  of  fire  will  be 
necessary  for  you  in  the  next  world, — that 
next  world  which  you  do  not  believe  in. 
But  it  is  perhaps  as  well  to  warn  you  that  I 
am  not  without  protection  in  this  place. 
.  .  .  See  ! "  and  as  she  spoke  she  clapped 
her  hands. 

A  clanging  noise  as  of  brazen  bells  an- 
swered her, — and  Gervase,  springing  up  from 
his  seat,  saw,  to  his  utter  amazement,  the 
apparently  solid  walls  of  the  room  in  which 
they  were,  divide  rapidly  and  form  them- 
selves in  several  square  openings  which 
showed  a  much  larger  and  vaster  apartment 
beyond,  resembling  a  great  hall.  Here  were 


ZISKA  131 

assembled  some  twenty  or  thirty  gorgeously- 
costumed  Arab  attendants, — men  of  a  dark 
and  sinister  type,  who  appeared  to  be  fully 
armed,  judging  from  the  unpleasant-looking 
daggers  and  other  weapons  they  carried  at 
their  belts.  The  Princess  clapped  her  hands 
again,  and  the  walls  closed  in  the  same  rapid 
fashion  as  they  had  opened,  while  the  beau- 
tiful mistress  of  this  strange  habitation 
laughed  mirthfully  at  the  complete  confu- 
sion of  her  visitor  and  would-be  lover. 

"  Paint  me  now  !  "  she  said,  flinging  her- 
self in  a  picturesque  attitude  on  one  of  the 
sofas  close  by  ;  "I  am  ready." 

"  But  I  am  not  ready  !  "  retorted  Gervase, 
angrily.  "  Do  you  take  me  for  a  child,  or  a 
fool  ?  " 

"  Both  in  one,"  responded  the  Princess, 
tranquilly  ;  "  being  a  man  !  " 

His  breath  came  and  went  quickly. 

"  Take  care,  beautiful  Ziska  ! "  he  said. 
"  Take  care  how  you  defy  me !  " 

"  And  take  care,  Monsieur  Gervase  ;  take 
care  how  you  defy  me  ! "  she  responded, 
with  a  strange,  quick  glance  at  him.  "  Do 
you  not  realize  what  folly  you  are  talking  ? 
You  are  making  love  to  me  in  the  fashion  of 
a  brigand,  rather  than  a  nineteenth-century 
Frenchman  of  good  standing, — and  I — I  have 


132  ZISKA 

to  defend  myself  against  you  also  brigand- 
wise,  by  showing  you  that  I  have  armed 
servants  within  call !  It  is  very  strange, — it 
would  frighten  even  Lady  Fulkeward,  and 
I  think  she  is  not  easily  frightened.  Pray 
commence  your  work,  and  leave  such  an  out- 
of-date  matter  as  love  to  dreamers  and  pretty 
sentimentalists,  like  Miss  Helen  Murray." 

He  was  silent,  and  busied  himself  in  un- 
strapping his  canvas  and  paint-box  with  a 
great  deal  of  almost  vicious  energy.  In  a 
few  moments  he  had  gained  sufficient  com- 
posure to  look  full  at  her,  and  taking  his 
palette  in  hand,  he  began  dabbing  on  the 
colors,  talking  between  whiles. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  he  said,  keeping  his 
voice  carefully  subdued,  "  that  you  can  intim- 
idate me  by  showing  me  a  score  of  wretched 
black  rascals  whom  you  have  placed  on  guard 
to  defend  you  out  there  ?  And  why  did  you 
place  them  on  guard?  You  must  have  been 
afraid  of  me !  Pardieu  !  I  could  snatch 
you  out  of  their  midst,  if  I  chose !  You  do 
not  know  me ;  if  you  did,  you  would  under- 
stand that  not  all  the  world,  armed  to  the 
teeth  should  balk  me  of  my  desires  !  But 
I  have  been  too  hasty — that  I  own, — I  can 
wait."  He  raised  his  eyes  and  saw  that  she 
was  listening  with  an  air  of  amused  indiffer- 


ZISKA  133 

ence.  "  I  shall  have  to  mix  strange  tints  in 
your  portrait,  ma  belle  !  It  is  difficult  to 
find  the  exact  hue  of  your  skin — there  is  rose 
and  brown  in  it ;  and  there  is  yet  another 
color  which  I  must  evolve  while  working, 
— and  it  is  not  the  hue  of  health.  It  is 
something  dark  and  suggestive  of  death  ;  I 
hope  you  are  not  destined  to  an  early  grave  ! 
And  yet,  why  not  ?  It  is  better  that  a 
beautiful  woman  should  die  in  her  beauty 
than  live  to  become  old  and  tiresome.  .  .  ." 

"You  think  that?"  interrupted  the  Ziska 
suddenly,  smiling  somewhat  coldly. 

"  I  do,  most  honestly.  Had  I  lived  in  the 
early  days  of  civilization,  when  men  were 
allowed  to  have  as  many  women  as  they 
could  provide  for,  I  would  have  mercifully 
killed  any  sweet  favorite  as  soon  as  her  beauty 
began  to  wane.  A  lovely  woman,  dead  in 
her  first  exquisite  youth, — how  beautiful  a 
subject  for  the  mind  to  dwell  upon  !  How 
it  suggests  all  manner  of  poetic  fancies  and 
graceful  threnodies  !  But  a  woman  grown 
old,  who  has  outlived  all  passion  and  is  a 
mere  bundle  of  fat,  or  a  mummy  of  skin  and 
bone, — what  poetry  does  her  existence  sug- 
gest? How  can  she  appeal  to  art  or  senti- 
ment ?  She  is  a  misery  to  herself  and  an 
eyesore  to  others.  Yes,  Princess,  believe 


134  ZISKA 

me, — Love  first,  and  Death  afterwards,  are 
woman's  best  friends." 

"  You  believe  in  Death  ? "  ask  the  Prin- 
cess, looking  steadily  at  him. 

"  It  is  the  only  thing  I  do  believe  in,"  he 
answered  lightly.  "  It  is  a  fact  that  will  bear 
examination,  but  not  contradiction.  May  I 
ask  you  to  turn  your  head  slightly  to  the  left 
— so  !  Yes,  that  will  do  ;  if  I  can  catch  the 
look  in  your  eyes  that  gleams  there  now, — 
the  look  of  intense,  burning,  greedy  cruelty 
which  is  so  murderously  fascinating,  I  shall 
be  content." 

He  seated  himself  opposite  to  her,  and, 
putting  down  his  palette,  took  up  his  canvas, 
and  posing  it  on  his  knee,  began  drawing  the 
first  rough  outline  of  his  sketch  in  charcoal. 
She,  meanwhile,  leaning  against  heaped-up 
cushions  of  amber  satin,  remained  silent. 

"You  are  not  a  vain  woman,"  he  pursued, 
"  or  you  would  resent  my  description  of 
your  eyes.  '  Greedy  cruelty  '  is  not  a  pretty 
expression,  nor  would  it  be  considered  com- 
plimentary by  the  majority  of  the  fair  sex. 
Yet,  from  my  point  of  view,  it  is  the  highest 
flattery  I  can  pay  you,  for  I  adore  the  eyes 
of  savage  animals,  and  the  beautiful  eye  of 
the  forest-beast  is  in  your  head, — diableresse 
charmante  comme  vous  $tes  !  I  wonder  what 


ZISKA  135 

gives  you  such  an  insatiate  love  of  venge- 
ance ?  " 

He  looked  up  and  saw  her  eyes  glistening 
and  narrowing  at  the  corners,  like  the  eyes 
of  an  angry  snake. 

"  If  I  have  such  a  feeling,"  she  replied 
slowly,  "  it  is  probably  a  question  of  herit- 
age." 

"  Ah  !  Your  parents  were  perhaps  bar- 
baric in  their  notions  of  love  and  hatred  ?  " 
he  queried,  lazily  working  at  his  charcoal 
sketch  with  growing  admiration  for  its  re- 
sult. 

"  My  parents  came  of  a  race  of  kings !  "  she 
answered.  "  All  my  ancestors  were  proud, 
and  of  a  temper  unknown  to  this  petty  day. 
They  resented  a  wrong,  they  punished  false- 
hood and  treachery,  and  they  took  a  life  for 
a  life.  Your  generation  tolerates  every  sin 
known  in  the  calendar  with  a  smile  and  a 
shrug, — you  have  arrived  at  the  end  of  your 
civilization,  even  to  the  denial  of  Deity  and 
a  future  life." 

"  That  is  not  the  end  of  our  civilization, 
Princess,"  said  Gervase,  working  away  in- 
tently, with  eyes  fixed  on  the  canvas  as  he 
talked.  "  That  is  the  triumphal  apex,  the 
glory,  the  culmination  of  everything  that  is 
great  and  supreme  in  manhood.  In  France, 


136  ZISKA 

man  now  knows  himself  to  be  the  only  God  ; 
England — good,  slow-pacing  England — is  ap- 
proaching France  in  intelligence  by  degrees, 
and  I  rejoice  to  see  that  it  is  possible  for 
a  newspaper  like  the  Agnostic  to  exist  in 
London.  Only  the  other  day  that  excellent 
journal  was  discussing  the  possibility  of  teach- 
ing monkeys  to  read,  and  a  witty  writer,  who 
adopts  the  nom  de  plume  of  '  Saladin/  very 
cleverly  remarked  '  that  supposing  monkeys 
were  able  to  read  the  New  Testament,  they 
would  still  remain  monkeys ;  in  fact,  they 
would  probably  be  greater  monkeys  than 
ever.'  The  fact  of  such  an  expression  being 
allowed  to  pass  muster  in  once  pious  London 
is  an  excellent  sign  of  the  times  and  of  our 
progress  towards  the  pure  Age  of  Reason. 
The  name  of  Christ  is  no  longer  one  to  con- 
jure with." 

A  dead  silence  followed  his  words,  and 
the  peculiar  stillness  and  heaviness  of  the 
atmosphere  struck  him  with  a  vague  alarm. 
He  lifted  his  eyes, — the  Princess  Ziska  met 
his  gaze  steadily,  but  there  was  something 
in  her  aspect  that  moved  him  to  wonder- 
ment and  a  curious  touch  of  terror.  The 
delicate  rose-tint  of  her  cheeks  had  faded  to 
an  ashy  paleness,  her  lips  were  pressed  to- 
gether tightly  and  her  eyes  seemed  to  have 


ZISKA  137 

gained  a  vivid  and  angry  lustre  which  Me- 
dusa herself  might  have  envied. 

"Did  you  ever  try  to  conjure  with  that 
name  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Never,"  he  replied,  forcing  a  smile  and 
remonstrating  with  himself  for  the  inexplica- 
ble nature  of  his  emotions. 

She  went  on  slowly  : 

"  In  my  creed — for  I  have  a  creed — it  is  be- 
lieved that  those  who  have  never  taken  the 
sacred  name  of  Christ  to  their  hearts,  as  a 
talisman  of  comfort  and  support,  are  left  as 
it  were  in  the  vortex  of  uncertainties,  tossed 
to  and  fro  among  many  whirling  and  mighty 
forces,  and  haunted  forever  by  the  phan- 
toms of  their  own  evil  deeds.  Till  they 
learn  and  accept  the  truth  of  their  marvel- 
lous Redemption,  they  are  the  prey  of  wick- 
ed spirits  who  tempt  and  lead  them  on  to 
divers  miseries.  But  when  the  great  Name 
of  Him  who  died  upon  the  Cross  is  acknowl- 
edged, then  it  is  found  to  be  of  that  trans- 
figuring nature  which  turns  evil  'co  good, 
and  sometimes  makes  angels  out  of  fiends. 
Nevertheless,  for  the  hardened  reprobate 
and  unbeliever  the  old  laws  suffice." 

Gervase  had  stopped  the  quick  movement 
of  his  "  fusin,"  and  looked  at  her  curiously. 

"  What  old  laws  ?  "  he  asked. 


138  ZISKA 

"  Stern  justice  without  mercy !  "  she  an- 
swered ;  then  in  lighter  accents  she  added : 
"  Have  you  finished  your  first  outline  ?  " 

In  reply,  he  turned  his  canvas  round  to 
her,  showing  her  a  head  and  profile  boldly 
presented  in  black  and  white,.  She  smiled. 

"  It  is  clever ;  but  it  is  not  like  me,"  she 
said.  "  When  you  begin  the  coloring  you 
will  find  that  your  picture  and  I  have  no 
resemblance  to  each  other." 

He  flushed  with  a  sense  of  wounded 
amour  propre. 

"  Pardon,  madame  ! — I  am  no  novice  at 
the  art  of  painting,"  he  said  ;  "  and  much  as 
your  charms  dazzle  and  ensnare  me,  they  do 
not  disqualify  my  brain  and  hand  from  per- 
fectly delineating  them  upon  my  canvas.  I 
love  you  to  distraction ;  but  my  passion 
shall  not  hinder  me  from  making  your  pic- 
ture a  masterpiece." 

She  laughed. 

"  What  an  egoist  you  are,  Monsieur  Ger- 
vase !  "  she  said.  "  Even  in  your  professed 
passion  for  me  you  count  yourself  first, — me 
afterwards  ! " 

"  Naturally  !  "  he  replied.  "  A  man  must 
always  be  first  by  natural  creation.  When  he 
allows  himself  to  play  second  fiddle,  he  is  a 
fool ! " 


ZISKA  139 

"  And  when  he  is  a  fool — and  he  often  is — 
he  is  the  first  of  fools !  "  said  the  Princess. 
"  No  ape — no  baboon  hanging  by  its  tail  to 
a  tree — looks  such  a  fool  as  a  man-fool.  For 
a  man-fool  has  had  all  the  opportunities  of 
education  and  learning  bestowed  upon  him  ; 
this  great  universe,  with  its  daily  lessons  of 
the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  is  his  book 
laid  open  for  his  reading,  and  when  he  will 
neither  read  it  nor  consider  it,  and,  more- 
over, when  he  utterly  denies  the  very  Maker 
of  it,  then  there  is  no  fool  in  all  creation  like 
him.  For  the  ape-fool  does  at  least  admit 
that  there  may  be  a  stronger  beast  some- 
where,— a  creature  who  may  suddenly  come 
upon  him  and  end  his  joys  of  hanging  by 
his  tail  to  a  tree  and  make  havoc  of  his 
fruit-eating  and  chattering,  while  man  thinks 
there  is  nothing  anywhere  superior  to  him- 
self." 

Gervase  smiled  tolerantly. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  ruffled  you,  Princess," 
he  said.  "I  see  you  have  religious  ideas: 
I  have  none." 

Once  again  she  laughed  musically. 

"  Religious  ideas  !  I !  Not  at  all.  I  have 
a  creed  as  I  told  you,  but  it  is  an  ugly  one — 
not  at  all  sentimental  or  agreeable.  It  is 
one  I  have  adopted  from  ancient  Egypt." 


140  ZISKA 

"  Explain  it  to  me,  "  said  Gervase  ;  "  I  will 
adopt  it  also,  for  your  sake." 

"It  is  too  supernatural  for  you,"  she  said, 
paying  no  heed  to  the  amorous  tone  of  his 
voice  or  the  expressive  tenderness  of  his 
eyes. 

"  Never  mind!  Love  will  make  me  accept 
an  army  of  ghosts,  if  necessary." 

"  One  of  the  chief  tenets  of  my  faith," 
she  continued,  "  is  the  eternal  immortality 
of  each  individual  Soul.  Will  you  accept 
that  ?  " 

"  For  the  moment,  certainly  !  " 

Her  eyes  glowed  like  great  jewels  as  she 
proceeded : 

"  The  Egyptian  cult  I  follow  is  very  briefly 
explained.  The  Soul  begins  in  protoplasm 
without  conscious  individuality.  It  pro- 
gresses through  various  forms  till  individual 
consciousness  is  attained.  Once  attained, 
it  is  never  lost,  but  it  lives  on,  pressing  to- 
wards perfection,  taking  upon  itself  various 
phases  of  existence  according  to  the  pas- 
sions which  have  most  completely  dominated 
it  from  the  first.  That  is  all.  But  accord- 
ing to  this  theory,  you  might  have  lived  in 
the  world  long  ago,  and  so  might  I :  we  might 
even  have  met;  and  for  some  reason  or 
other  we  may  have  become  re-incarnated 


ZISKA.  141 

now.  A  disciple  of  my  creed  would  give 
you  that  as  the  reason  why  you  sometimes 
imagine  you  have  seen  me  before." 

As  she  spoke,  the  dazed  and  troubled  sen- 
sation he  had  once  previously  experienced 
came  upon  him  ;  he  laid  down  the  canvas  he 
held  and  passed  his  hand  across  his  forehead 
bewilderedly. 

"Yes;  very  curious  and  fantastic.  I've 
heard  a  great  deal  about  the  doctrine  of  re- 
incarnation. I  don't  believe  in  it, — I  can't 
believe  in  it !  But  if  I  could :  if  I  could 
imagine  I  had  ever  met  you  in  some  bygone 
time,  and  you  were  like  what  you  are  at  this 
moment,  I  should  have  loved  you, — I  must 
have  loved  you  !  You  see  I  cannot  leave 
the  subject  of  love  alone  ;  and  your  re-incar- 
nation idea  gives  my  fancy  something  to 
work  upon.  So,  beautiful  Ziska,  if  your 
soul  ever  took  the  form  of  a  flower,  I  must 
have  been  its  companion  blossom  ;  if  it  ever 
paced  the  forest  as  a  beast  of  prey,  I  must 
have  been  its  mate ;  if  it  ever  was  human 
before,  then  I  must  have  been  its  lover! 
Do  you  like  such  pretty  follies?  I  will 
talk  them  by  the  hour." 

Here  he  rose,  and  with  a  movement  that 
was  half  fierce  and  half  tender,  he  knelt 
beside  her,  taking  her  hands  in  his  own. 


142  ZISKA 

"  I  love  you,  Ziska !  I  cannot  help  my- 
self.  I  am  drawn  to  you  by  some  force 
stronger  than  my  own  will ;  but  you  need 
not  be  afraid  of  me — not  yet !  As  I  said,  I 
can  wait.  I  can  endure  the  mingled  torture 
and  rapture  of  this  sudden  passion  and  make 
no  sign,  till  my  patience  tires,  and  then — 
then  I  will  win  you  if  I  die  for  it !  " 

He  sprang  up  before  she  could  speak  a 
word  in  answer,  and  seizing  his  canvas  again, 
exclaimed  gayly: 

"  Now  for  the  hues  of  morning  and  even- 
ing combined,  to  paint  the  radiance  of  this 
wicked  soul  of  love  that  so  enthralls  me  ! 
First,  the  raven-black  of  midnight  for  the 
hair, — the  lustre  of  the  coldest,  brightest 
stars  for  eyes, — the  blush-rose  of  early  dawn 
for  lips  and  cheeks.  Ah !  How  shall  I 
make  a  real  beginning  of  this  marvel  ?  " 

"It  will  be  difficult,  I  fear,"  said  Ziska 
slowly,  with  a  faint,  cold  smile ;  "  and  still 
more  difficult,  perchance,  will  be  the  end !  " 


ZISKA  143 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  table  d'hote  at  the  Gezireh  Palace 
Hotel  had  already  begun  when  Gervase 
entered  the  dining-room  and  sat  down  near 
Lady  Fulkeward  and  Dr.  Dean. 

"You  have  missed  the  soup,"  said  her 
ladyship,  looking  up  at  him  with  a  sweet 
smile.  "  All  you  artists  are  alike, — you  have 
no  idea  whatever  of  time.  And  how  have 
you  succeeded  with  that  charming  myste- 
rious person,  the  Princess  Ziska?  " 

Gervase  kept  his  gaze  steadily  fixed  on 
the  table-cloth.  He  was  extremely  pale, 
and  had  the  air  of  one  who  has  gone  through 
some  great  mental  exhaustion. 

"  I  have  not  succeeded  as  well  as  I  ex- 
pected," he  answered  slowly.  "  I  tnink  my 
hand  must  have  lost  its  cunning.  At  any 
rate,  whatever  the  reason  may  be,  Art  has 
been  defeated  by  Nature." 

He  crumbled  up  the  piece  of  bread  near 
his  plate  in  small  portions  with  a  kind  of 
involuntary  violence  in  the  action,  and  Dr. 


144  ZISKA 

Dean,  deliberately  drawing  out  a  pair  of 
spectacles  from  their  case,  adjusted  them, 
and  surveyed  him  curiously. 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  you  cannot  paint 
the  Princess's  picture?" 

Gervase  glanced  up  at  him  with  a  half- 
sullen,  half-defiant  expression. 

"  I  don't  say  that,"  he  replied ;  "  I  can 
paint  something — something  which  you  can 
call  a  picture  if  you  like, — but  there  is  no 
resemblance  to  the  Princess  Ziska  in  it.  She 
is  beautiful,  and  I  can  get  nothing  of  her 
beauty, — I  can  only  get  the  reflection  of  a 
face  which  is  not  hers." 

"  How  very  curious ! "  exclaimed  Lady 
Fulkeward.  "  Quite  psychological,  is  it  not, 
Doctor  ?  It  is  almost  creepy ! "  and  she 
managed  to  produce  a  delicate  shudder  of 
her  white  shoulders  without  cracking  the 
blanc  de  perle  enamel.  "  It  will  be  some- 
thing fresh  for  you  to  study." 

"  Possibly  it  will — possibly,"  said  the  Doc- 
tor, still  surveying  Gervase  blandly  through 
his  round  glasses  ;  "  but  it  isn't  the  first  time 
I  have  heard  of  painters  who  unconsciously 
produce  other  faces  than  those  of  their  sitters. 
I  distinctly  remember  a  case  in  point.  A 
gentleman,  famous  for  his  charities  and  gen- 
eral benevolence,  had  his  portrait  painted  by 


ZISKA  145 

a  great  artist  for  presentation  to  the  town- 
hall  of  his  native  place,  and  the  artist  was 
quite  unable  to  avoid  making  him  unto  the 
likeness  of  a  villain.  It  was  quite  a  distress- 
ing affair;  the  painter  was  probably  more 
distressed  than  anybody  about  it,  and  he 
tried  by  every  possible  means  in  his  power 
to  impart  a  truthful  and  noble  aspect  to  the 
countenance  of  the  man  who  was  known  and 
admitted  to  be  a  benefactor  to  his  race.  But 
it  was  all  in  vain  :  the  portrait  when  finished 
was  the  portrait  of  a  stranger  and  a  scoundrel. 
The  people  for  whom  it  was  intended  de- 
clared they  would  not  have  such  a  libel  on 
their  generous  friend  hung  up  in  their  town- 
hall.  The  painter  was  in  despair,  and  there 
was  going  to  be  a  general  hubbub,  when,  lo 
and  behold  the  '  noble '  personage  himself 
was  suddenly  arrested  for  a  brutal  murder 
committed  twelve  years  back.  He  was 
found  guilty  and  hanged,  and  the  painter 
kept  the  portrait  that  had  so  remarkably  be- 
trayed the  murderer's  real  nature,  as  a  curi- 
osity ever  afterwards." 

"Is that  a  fact ? "  inquired  a  man  who  was 
seated  at  the  other  side  of  the  table,  and 
who  had  listened  with  great  interest  to  the 
story. 

"  A  positive  fact,"  said  the  Doctor.     "  One 


146  ZISKA 

of  those  many  singular  circumstances  which 
occur  in  life,  and  which  are  beyond  all  ex- 
planation." 

Gervase  moved  restlessly ;  then  filling 
for  himself  a  glass  of  claret,  drained  it  off 
thirstily. 

"  Something  of  the  same  kind  has  hap- 
pened to  me,"  he  said  with  a  hard,  mirthless 
laugh,  "  for  out  of  the  most  perfect  beauty 
I  have  only  succeeded  in  presenting  an 
atrocity." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Fulkeward. 
"  What  a  disappointing  day  you  must  have 
had  !  But  of  course,  you  will  try  again ; 
the  Princess  will  surely  give  you  another 
sitting  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  shall  certainly  try  again 
and  yet  again,  and  ever  so  many  times 
again,"  said  Gervase,  with  a  kind  of  angry 
obstinacy  in  his  tone,  "  the  more  so  as  she  has 
told  me  I  will  never  succeed  in  painting  her." 

"  She  told  you  that,  did  she  ? "  put  in 
Dr.  Dean,  with  an  air  of  lively  interest. 

"Yes." 

Just  then  the  handing  round  of  fresh 
dishes  and  the  clatter  of  knives  and  forks 
effectually  put  a  stop  to  the  conversation 
for  the  time,  and  Gervase  presently  glancing 
about  him  saw  that  Denzil  Murray  and  his 


ZISKA.  147 

sister  were  dining  apart  at  a  smaller  table 
with  young  Lord  Fulkeward  and  Ross 
Courtney.  Helen  was  looking  her  fairest 
and  best  that  evening — her  sweet  face, 
framed  in  its  angel  aureole  of  bright  hair 
had  a  singular  look  of  pureness  and  truth 
expressed  upon  it  rare  to  find  in  any  woman 
beyond  her  early  teens.  Unconsciously  to 
himself,  Gervase  sighed  as  he  caught  a  view 
of  her  delicate  profile,  and  Lady  Fulkeward's 
sharp  ears  heard  the  sound  of  that  sigh. 

"  Isn't  that  a  charming  little  party  over 
there  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Young  people,  you 
know  !  They  always  like  to  be  together ! 
That  very  sweet  girl,  Miss  Murray,  was  so 
much  distressed  about  her  brother  to-day, — 
something  was  the  matter  with  him — a  touch 
of  fever,  I  believe, — that  she  begged  me  to 
let  Fulke  dine  with  them  in  order  to  dis- 
tract Mr.  Denzil's  mind.  Fulke  is  a  dear 
boy,  you  know — very  consoling  in  his  ways, 
though  he  says  so  little.  Then  Mr.  Court- 
ney volunteered  to  join  them,  and  there  they 
are.  The  Chetwynd  Lyles  are  gone  to  a 
big  dinner  at  the  Continental  this  evening." 

"  The  Chetwynd  Lyles — let  me  see.  Who 
are  they  ?  "  mused  Gervase  aloud.  "  Do  I 
know  them  ?  " 

"  No, — that    is,   you   have   not  been    for- 


148  ZISKA 

mally  introduced,"  said  Dr.  Dean.  "  Sir 
Chetwynd  Lyle  is  the  editor  and  proprietor 
of  the  London  Daily  Dial,  Lady  Chetwynd 
Lyle  is  his  wife,  and  the  two  elderly-youth- 
ful ladies  who  appeared  as  '  Boulogne  fish- 
wives '  last  night  at  the  ball  are  his  daugh- 
ters." 

"  Cruel  man ! "  exclaimed  Lady  Fulke- 
ward  with  a  girlish  giggle.  "  The  idea  of 
calling  those  sweet  girls,  Muriel  and  Dolly, 
'  elderly-youthful ! ' ' 

"  What  are  they,  my  dear  madam,  what 
are  they?"  demanded  the  imperturbable 
little  savant.  "  '  Elderly-youthful  '  is  a  very 
convenient  expression,  and  applies  perfectly 
to  people  who  refuse  to  be  old  and  cannot 
possibly  be  young." 

"  Nonsense  !  I  will  not  listen  to  you  ! " 
and  her  ladyship  opened  her  jewelled  fan 
and  spread  it  before  her  eyes  to  completely 
screen  the  objectionable  Doctor  from  view. 
"  Don't  you  know  your  theories  are  quite 
out  of  date  ?  Nobody  is  old, — we  all  utterly 
refuse  to  be  old  !  Why,"  and  she  shut  her 
fan  with  a  sudden  jerk,  "  I  shall  have  you 
calling  me  old  next." 

"  Never,  madam  ! "  said  Dr.  Dean  gal- 
lantly laying  his  hand  upon  his  heart.  "You 
are  quite  an  exception  to  the  rule.  You 


ZISKA.  149 

have  passed  through  the  furnace  of  marriage 
and  come  out  unscathed.  Time  has  done 
its  worst  with  you,  and  now  retreats,  baffled 
and  powerless  ;  it  can  touch  you  no  more  !  " 

Whether  this  was  meant  as  a  compliment 
or  the  reverse  it  would  have  been  difficult 
to  say,  but  Lady  Fulkeward  graciously  ac- 
cepted it  as  the  choicest  flattery,  and  bowed, 
smiling  and  gratified.  Dinner  was  now 
drawing  to  its  end,  and  people  were  giving 
their  orders  for  coffee  to  be  served  to  them 
on  the  terrace  and  in  the  gardens,  Gervase 
among  the  rest.  The  Doctor  turned  to  him. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  your  picture  of  the 
Princess,"  he  said, — "  that  is  if  you  have  no 
objection." 

"  Not  the  least  in  the  world,"  replied 
Gervase, — "  only  it  isn't  the  Princess,  it  is 
somebody  else." 

A  faint  shudder  passed  over  him.  The 
Doctor  noticed  it. 

"  Talking  of  curious  things,"  went  on  that 
irrepressible  savant,  "  I  started  hunting  for 
a  particular  scarabeus  to-day.  I  couldn't 
find  it,  of  course, — it  generally  takes  years  to 
find  even  a  trifle  that  one  especially  wants. 
But  I  came  across  a  queer  old  man  in  one 
of  the  curiosity-shops  who  told  me  that  over 
at  Karnak  they  had  just  discovered  a  large 


150  ZISKA 

fresco  in  one  of  the  tombs  describing  the 
exploits  of  the  very  man  whose  track  I'm 
on — Araxes.  .  .  " 

Gervase  started, — he  knew  not  why. 

"  What  has  Araxes  to  do  with  you  ?  "  he 
demanded. 

"  Oh,  nothing !  But  the  Princess  Ziska 
spoke  of  him  as  a  great  warrior  in  the  days 
of  Amenhotep, — and  she  seems  to  be  a  great 
Egyptologist,  and  to  know  many  things  of 
which  we  are  ignorant.  Then  you  know 
last  night  she  adopted  the  costume  of  a  dancer 
of  that  period,  named  Ziska-Charmazel. 
Well,  now  it  appears  that  in  one  part  of  this 
fresco  the  scene  depicted  is  this  very  Ziska- 
Charmazel  dancing  before  Araxes." 

Gervase  listened  with  strained  attention, — 
his  heart  beat  thickly,  as  though  the  Doctor 
were  telling  him  of  some  horrible  circum- 
stance in  which  he  had  an  active  part ;  where- 
as he  had  truly  no  interest  at  all  in  the 
matter,  except  in  so  far  as  events  of  history 
are  more  or  less  interesting  to  everyone. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  said  after  a  pause. 

"Well,"  echoed  Dr.  Dean.  "There  is 
really  nothing  more  to  say  beyond  that  I 
want  to  find  out  everything  I  can  concern- 
ing this  Araxes,  if  only  for  the  reason  that 
the  charming  Princess  chose  to  impersonate 


ZISKA  1 5 1 

his  lady-love  last  night.  One  must  amuse 
one's  self  in  one's  own  fashion,  even  in  Egypt, 
and  this  amuses  me" 

Gervase  rose,  feeling  in  his  pocket  for  his 
cigarette-case. 

"  Come,"  he  said  briefly,  "  I  will  show  you 
my  picture." 

He  straightened  his  tall,  fine  figure  and 
walked  slowly  across  the  room  to  the  table 
where  Denzil  Murray  sat  with  his  sister  and 
friends. 

"  Denzil,"  he  said, — "  I  have  made  a 
strange  portrait  of  the  Princess  Ziska,  and 
I'm  going  to  show  it  to  Dr.  Dean.  I  should 
like  you  to  see  it  too.  Will  you  come  ?  " 

Denzil  looked  at  him  with  a  dark  reproach 
in  his  eyes. 

"  If  you  like,"  he  answered  shortly. 

tf  I  do  like  !  "  and  Gervase  laid  his  hand 
on  the  young  fellow's  shoulder  with  a  kind 
pressure.  "  You  will  find  it  a  piece  of  curi- 
ous disenchantment,  as  veil  as  a  proof  of 
my  want  of  skill.  You  are  all  welcome  to 
come  and  look  at  it  except  .  .  ."  here  he 
hesitated, — "  except  Miss  Murray.  I  think 
— yes,  I  think  it  might  possibly  frighten  Miss 
Murray." 

Helen  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  but  said 
nothing. 


I$2  ZISKA 

"  Oh,  by  Jove  !  "  murmured  Lord  Fulke- 
ward,  feeling  his  moustache  as  usual.  "  Then 
don't  you  come,  Miss  Murray.  We'll  tell 
you  all  about  it  afterwards." 

"  I  have  no  curiosity  on  the  subject,"  she 
said  a  trifle  coldly.  "  Denzil,  you  will  find 
me  in  the  drawing-room.  I  have  a  letter  to 
write  home." 

With  a  slight  salute  she  left  them,  Gervase 
watching  the  disappearance  of  her  graceful 
figure  with  a  tinge  of  melancholy  regret  in 
his  eyes. 

"  It  is  evident  Mademoiselle  Helen  does 
not  like  the  Princess  Ziska,"  he  observed. 

"  Oh,  well,  as  to  that,"  said  Fulkeward 
hastily,  "  you  know  you  can't  expect  women 
to  lose  their  heads  about  her  as  men  do. 
Beside,  there's  something  rather  strange  in 
the  Princess's  manner  and  appearance,  and 
perhaps  Miss  Murray  doesn't  take  to  her 
any  more  than  I  do." 

"  Oh,  then  you  are  not  one  of  her  lovers  ?  " 
queried  Dr.  Dean  smiling. 

"  No  ;  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Good  heavens,  my  dear  young  sir, 
I  was  never  in  love  with  a  woman  in  my  life  ! 
That  is,  not  what  you  would  call  in  love.  At 
the  age  of  sixteen  I  wrote  verses  to  a  mature 
young  damsel  of  forty, — a  woman  with  a 


ZISKA  153 

remarkably  fine  figure  and  plenty  of  it ;  she 
rejected  my  advances  with  scorn,  and  I  have 
never  loved  since  !  " 

They  all  laughed, — even  Denzil  Murray's 
sullen  features  cleared  for  the  moment  into 
the  brightness  of  a  smile. 

"  Where  did  you  paint  the  Princess's  pic- 
ture ?  "  inquired  Ross  Courtney  suddenly. 

"  In  her  own  house,"  replied  Gervase. 
"  But  we  were  not  alone,  for  the  fascinating 
fair  one  had  some  twenty  or  more  armed 
servants  within  call."  There  was  a  move- 
ment of  surprise  among  his  listeners,  and  he 
went  on :  "Yes;  Madame  is  very  well  pro- 
tected, I  assure  you, — as  much  so  as  if  she 
were  the  first  favorite  in  a  harem.  Come 
now,  and  see  my  sketch." 

He  led  the  way  to  a  private  sitting-room 
which  he  had  secured  for  himself  in  the  hotel 
at  almost  fabulous  terms.  It  was  a  small 
apartment,  but  it  had  the  advantage  of  a 
long  French  window  which  opened  out  into 
the  garden.  Here,  on  an  easel,  was  a  canvas 
with  its  back  turned  towards  the  spectator. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Gervase  abruptly  address- 
ing his  guests,  "  and  be  prepared  for  a  curi- 
osity unlike  anything  you  have  ever  seen 
before ! "  He  paused  a  moment,  looking 
steadily  at  Dr.  Dean.  "  Perhaps,  Doctor, 


154  ZISKA. 

as  you  are  interested  in  psychic  phenomena, 
you  may  be  able  to  explain  how  I  got  such 
a  face  on  my  canvas,  for  I  cannot  explain  it 
to  myself." 

He  slowly  turned  the  canvas  round,  and, 
scarcely  heeding  the  exclamation  of  amaze- 
ment that  broke  simultaneously  from  all  the 
men  present,  stared  at  it  himself,  fascinated 
by  a  singular  magnetism  more  potent  than 
either  horror  or  fear. 


ZISKA  1 5  5 


CHAPTER   IX. 

WHAT  a  strange  and  awful  face  it  was  ! — 
what  a  thing  of  distorted  passion  and  pain  ! 
What  an  agony  was  expressed  in  every  line 
of  the  features ! — agony  in  which  the  traces 
of  a  divine  beauty  lingered  only  to  render 
the  whole  countenance  more  repellent  and 
terrific !  A  kind  of  sentient  solemnity, 
mingled  with  wrath  and  terror,  glared  from 
the  painted  eyes, — the  lips,  slightly  parted 
in  a  cruel  upward  curve,  seemed  about  to 
utter  a  shriek  of  menace, — the  hair,  drooping 
in  black,  thick  clusters  low  on  the  brow, 
looked  wet  as  with  the  dews  of  the  rigor 
'mortis, — and  to  add  to  the  mysterious  horror 
of  the  whole  conception,  the  distinct  outline 
of  a  death's-head  was  seen  plainly  through 
the  rose-brown  flesh-tints.  There  was  no 
real  resemblance  in  this  horrible  picture  to 
the  radiant  and  glowing  loveliness  of  the 
Princess  Ziska,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  there 
was  sufficient  dim  likeness  to  make  an  imag- 
inative person  think  it  might  be  possible 
for  her  to  assume  that  appearance  in  death. 


I  $6  ZISKA 

Several  minutes  passed  in  utter  silence, — 
then  Lord  Fulkeward  suddenly  rose. 

"  I'm  going  !  "  he  said.  "  It's  a  beastly 
thing ;  it  makes  me  sick  !  " 

"  Grand  merci ! "  said  -Gervase  with  a 
forced  smile. 

"  I  really  can't  help  it,"  declared  the  young 
man,  turning  his  back  to  the  picture.  "  If  I 
am  rude,  you  must  excuse  it.  I'm  not  very 
strong — my  mother  will  tell  you  I  get  put 
out  very  easily, — and  I  shall  dream  of  this 
horrid  face  all  night  if  I  don't  give  it  a  wide 
berth." 

And,  without  any  further  remark  he 
stepped  out  through  the  open  window  into 
the  garden,  and  walked  off.  Gervase  made 
no  comment  on  his  departure  ;  he  turned 
his  eyes  towards  Dr.  Dean  who,  with  spec- 
tacles on  nose,  was  staring  hard  at  the  picture 
with  every  sign  of  the  deepest  interest. 

"  Well,  Doctor,"  he  said,  "  you  see  it  is 
not  at  all  like  the  Princess." 

"  Oh,  yes  it  is ! "  returned  the  Doctor 
placidly.  "  If  you  could  imagine  the  Prin- 
cess's face  in  torture,  it  would  be  like  her. 
It  is  the  kind  of  expression  she  might  wear 
if  she  suddenly  met  with  a  violent  end." 

"  But  why  should  I  paint  her  so  ?  " 
demanded  Gervase.  "  She  was  perfectly 


ZISKA  157 

tranquil  ;  and  her  attitude  was  most  pictur- 
esquely composed.  I  sketched  her  as  I 
thought  I  saw  her, — how  did  this  tortured 
head  come  on  my  canvas  ?  " 

The  Doctor  scratched  his  chin  thought- 
fully. It  was  certainly  a  problem.  He 
stared  hard  at  Gervase,  as  though  searching 
for  the  clue  to  the  mystery  in  the  handsome 
artist's  own  face.  Then  he  turned  to  Denzil 
Murray,  who  had  not  stirred  or  spoken. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it,  eh,  Denzil  ?  " 
he  asked. 

The  young  man  started  as  from  a  dream. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think  of  it." 

"  And  you  ?  "  said  the  Doctor,  addressing 
Ross  Courtney. 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  am  of  the  same  opinion  as 
Fulkeward, — I  think  it  is  a  horrible  thing. 
And  the  curious  part  of  the  matter  is  that 
it  is  like  the  Princess  Ziska,  and  yet  totally 
unlike.  Upon  my  word,  you  know,  it  is  a 
very  unpleasant  picture." 

Dr.  Dean  got  up  and  paced  the  room  two 
or  three  times,  his  brows  knitted  in  a  heavy 
frown.  Suddenly  he  stopped  in  front  of 
Gervase. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  said,  "  have  you  any  recol- 
lection of  ever  having  met  the  Princess 
Ziska  before  ?  " 


158  ZISKA 

Gervase  looked  puzzled,  then  answered 
slowly : 

"  No,  I  have  no  actual  recollection  of  the 
kind.  At  the  same  time,  I  admit  to  you 
that  there  is  something  about  her  which  has 
always  struck  me  as  being  familiar.  The 
tone  of  her  voice  and  the  peculiar  cadence  of 
her  laughter  particularly  affect  me  in  this 
way.  Last  night  when  I  was  dancing  with 
her,  I  wondered  whether  I  had  ever  come 
across  her  as  a  model  in  one  of  the  studios 
in  Paris  or  Rome." 

The  Doctor  listened  to  him  attentively, 
watching  him  narrowly  the  while.  But  he 
shook  his  head  incredulously  at  the  idea 
of  the  Princess  ever  having  posed  as  a 
model. 

"  No,  no,  that  won't  do !  "  he  said.  "  I  do 
not  believe  she  was  ever  in  the  model  busi- 
ness. Think  again.  You  are  now  a  man  in 
the  prime  of  life,  Monsieur  Gervase,  but  look 
back  to  your  early  youth, — the  period  when 
young  men  do  wild,  reckless,  and  often 
wicked  things, — did  you  ever  in  that  thought- 
less time  break  a  woman's  heart  ?  " 

Gervase  flushed,  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"  Pardieu  !  I  may  have  done  !  Who  can 
tell  ?  But  if  I  did,  what  would  that  have  to 


ZISKA  159 

do  with  this?"  and  he  tapped  the  picture 
impatiently. 

The  Doctor  sat  down  and  smacked  his 
lips  with  a  peculiar  air  of  enjoyment. 

"  It  would  have  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it," 
he  answered,  "  that  is,  psychologically  speak- 
ing. I  have  known  of  such  cases.  We  will 
argue  the  point  out  systematically  thus : — 
Suppose  that  you,  in  your  boyhood,  had 
wronged  some  woman,  and  suppose  that 
woman  had  died.  You  might  imagine  you 
had  got  rid  of  that  woman.  But  if  her  love 
was  very  strong  and  her  sense  of  outrage 
very  bitter,  I  must  tell  you  that  you  have 
not  got  rid  of  her  by  any  means,  moreover, 
you  never  will  get  rid  of  her.  And  why  ? 
Because  her  Soul,  like  all  Souls,  is  imperish- 
able. Now,  putting  it  as  a  mere  supposition, 
and  for  the  sake  of  the  argument,  that  you 
feel  a  certain  admiration  for  the  Princess 
Ziska,  an  admiration  which  might  possibly 
deepen  into  something  more  than  platonic, 
.  .  ." — here  Denzil  Murray  looked  up,  his 
eyes  glowing  with  an  angry  pain  as  he  fixed 
them  on  Gervase, — "  why  then  the  Soul  of 
the  other  woman  you  once  wronged  might 
come  between  you  and  the  face  of  the  new 
attraction  and  cause  you  to  unconsciously 
paint  the  tortured  look  of  the  injured  and 


160  ZISKA 

unforgiving  Spirit  on  the  countenance  of  the 
lovely  fascinator  whose  charms  are  just  be- 
ginning to  ensnare  you.  I  repeat,  I  have 
known  of  such  cases."  And,  unheeding  the 
amazed  and  incredulous  looks  of  his  listen- 
ers, the  little  Doctor  folded  both  his  short 
arms  across  his  chest,  and  hugged  himself 
in  the  exquisite  delight  of  his  own  strange 
theories.  "  The  fact  is,"  he  continued,  "  you 
cannot  get  rid  of  ghosts  !  They  are  all  about 
us — everywhere !  Sometimes  they  take 
forms,  sometimes  they  are  content  to  remain 
invisible.  But  they  never  fail  to  make  their 
presence  felt.  Often  during  the  perform- 
ance of  some  great  piece  of  music  they  drift 
between  the  air  and  the  melody,  making 
the  sounds  wilder  and  more  haunting,  and 
freezing  the  blood  of  the  listener  with  a 
vague  agony  and  chill.  Sometimes  they 
come  between  us  and  our  friends,  mysteri- 
ously forbidding  any  further  exchange  of 
civilities  or  sympathies,  and  occasionally  they 
meet  us  alone  and  walk  and  talk  with  us 
invisibly.  Generally  they  mean  well,  but 
sometimes  they  mean  ill.  And  the  only  ex- 
planation I  can  offer  you,  Monsieur  Gervase, 
as  to  the  present  picture  problem  is  that  a 
ghost  must  have  come  between  you  and 
your  canvas ! " 


ZISKA  l6l 

Gervase  laughed  loudly. 

"  My  good  friend,  you  are  an  adept  in  the 
art  of  pleading  the  impossible  !  You  must 
excuse  me ;  I  am  a  sceptic ;  and  I  hope  I 
am  also  in  possession  of  my  sober  reason, — 
therefore,  you  can  hardly  wonder  at  my  en- 
tirely refusing  to  accept  such  preposterous 
theories  as  those  you  appear  to  believe  in." 

Dr.  Dean  gave  him  a  civil  little  bow. 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  accept  them,  my 
dear  sir  !  I  state  my  facts,  and  you  can  take 
them  or  leave  them,  just  as  you  please.  You 
yourself  can  offer  no  explanation  of  the  sin- 
gular way  in  which  this  picture  has  been 
produced ;  I  offer  one  which  is  perfectly 
tenable  with  the  discoveries  of  psychic 
science, — and  you  dismiss  it  as  preposterous. 
That  being  the  case,  I  should  recommend 
you  to  cut  up  this  canvas  and  try  your  hand 
again  on  the  same  subject." 

"  Of  course,  I  shall  try  again,"  retorted 
Gervase.  "  But  I  do  not  think  I  shall  de- 
stroy this  first  sketch.  It  is  a  curiosity  in 
its  way  ;  and  it  has  a  peculiar  fascination  for 
me.  Do  you  notice  how  thoroughly  Egyp- 
tian the  features  are?  They  are  the  very 
contour  of  some  of  the  faces  on  the  recently- 
discovered  frescoes." 

"  Oh,  I  noticed  that  at  once,"  said  the 
ii 


l62  ZISKA 

Doctor  ;  "  but  that  is  not  remarkable,  seeing 
that  you  yourself  are  quite  of  an  Egyptian 
type,  though  a  Frenchman, — so  much  so,  in 
fact,  that  many  people  in  this  hotel  have 
commented  on  it." 

Gervase  said  nothing,  but  slowly  turned 
the  canvas  round  with  its  face  to  the  wall. 

"  You  have  seen  enough  of  it,  I  suppose  ?  " 
he  inquired  of  Denzil  Murray. 

"  More  than  enough  !  " 

Gervase  smiled. 

"  It  ought  to  disenchant  you,"  he  said  in 
a  lower  tone. 

"  But  it  is  a  libel  on  her  beauty, — it  is 
not  in  the  least  like  her,"  returned  Murray 
coldly. 

"  Not  in  the  very  least  ?  Are  you  sure  ? 
My  dear  Denzil,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
there  is  a  likeness,  combined  with  a  dreadful 
unlikeness  ;  and  it  is  that  which  troubles  both 
of  us.  I  assure  you,  my  good  boy,  I  am  as 
sorry  for  you  as  I  am  for  myself, — for  I  feel 
that  this  woman  will  be  the  death  of  one  or 
both  of  us  !  " 

Denzil  made  no  reply,  and  presently  they 
all  strolled  out  in  the  garden  and  lit  their 
cigars  and  cigarettes,  with  the  exception  of 
Dr.  Dean  who  never  smoked  and  never  drank 
anything  stronger  than  water. 


ZISKA  163 

"  I  am  going  to  get  up  a  party  for  the 
Nile,"  he  said  as  he  turned  his  sharp,  ferret- 
like  eyes  upwards  to  the  clear  heavens  ;  "  and 
I  shall  take  the  Princess  into  my  confidence. 
In  fact,  I  have  written  to  her  about  it  to-day. 
I  hear  she  has  a  magnificent  electric  daha- 
beah,  and  if  she  will  let  us  charter  it.  .  .  ." 

"  She  won't,"  said  Denzil  hastily,  "  unless 
she  goes  with  it  herself." 

"  You  seem  to  know  a  great  deal  about 
her,"  observed  Dr.  Dean  indulgently,  "  and 
why  should  she  not  go  herself  ?  She  is  evi- 
dently well  instructed  in  the  ancient  history 
of  Egypt,  and,  as  she  reads  the  hieroglyphs, 
she  will  be  a  delightful  guide  and  a  most 
valuable  assistant  to  me  in  my  researches." 

"  What  researches  are  you  engaged  upon 
now  ?  "  inquired  Courtney. 

"  I  am  hunting  down  a  man  called 
Araxes,"  answered  the  Doctor.  "  He  lived, 
so  far  as  I  can  make  out,  some  four  or  five 
thousand  years  ago,  more  or  less ;  and  I  want 
to  find  out  what  he  did  and  how  he  died,  and 
when  I  know  how  he  died,  then  I  mean 
to  discover  where  he  is  buried.  If  possible, 
I  shall  excavate  him.  I  also  want  to  Ifind 
the  remains  of  Ziska-Charmazel,  the  lady 
impersonated  by  our  charming  friend  the 
Princess  last  night, — the  dancer,  who,  it 


164  ZISKA 

appears  from  a  recently-discovered  fresco, 
occupied  most  of  her  time  in  dancing  before 
this  same  Araxes  and  making  herself  gener- 
ally agreeable  to  him." 

"  What  an  odd  fancy ! "  exclaimed  Den- 
zil.  "  How  can  a  man  and  woman  dead  five 
thousand  years  ago  be  of  any  interest  to 
you  ?  " 

"  What  interest  has  Rameses  ?  "  demand- 
ed the  Doctor  politely,  '  or  any  of  the 
Ptolemies  ?  Araxes,  like  Rameses,  may 
lead  to  fresh  discoveries  in  Egypt,  for  all 
we  know.  One  name  is  as  good  as  another, 
— and  each  odoriferous  mummy  has  its  own 
mystery." 

They  all  came  just  then  to  a  pause  in 
their  walk,  Gervase  stopping  to  light  a  fresh 
cigarette.  The  rays  of  the  rising  moon  fell 
upon  him  as  he  stood,  a  tall  and  stately  fig- 
ure, against  a  background  of  palms,  and 
shone  on  his  dark  features  with  a  touch  of 
grayish-green  luminance  that  gave  him  for 
the  moment  an  almost  spectral  appearance. 
Dr.  Dean  glanced  at  him  with  a  smile. 

"  What  a  figure  of  an  Egyptian,  is  he 
not ! "  he  said  to  Courtney  and  Denzil 
Murray.  "  Look  at  him  !  What  height 
and  symmetry  !  What  a  world  of  ferocity 
in  those  black,  slumbrous  eyes  !  Yes,  Mon- 


ZISKA  165 

sieur  Gervase,  I  am  talking  about  you.  I 
am  admiring  you  !  " 

"  Trop  cThonneur  !  "  murmured  Gervase, 
carefully  shielding  with  one  hand  the  match 
with  which  he  was  kindling  his  cigarette. 

"  Yes,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "  I  am  ad- 
miring you.  Being  a  little  man  myself,  I 
naturally  like  tall  men,  and  as  an  investiga- 
tor of  psychic  forms  I  am  immensely  in- 
terested when  I  see  a  finely-made  body  in 
which  the  soul  lies  torpid.  That  is  why  you 
unconsciously  compose  for  me  a  wonderful 
subject  of  study.  I  wonder  now,  how  long 
this  torpidity  in  the  psychic  germ  has  lasted 
in  you  ?  It  commenced,  of  course,  origin- 
ally in  protoplasm ;  but  it  must  have  con- 
tinued through  various  low  forms  and  met 
with  enormous  difficulties  in  attaining  to 
individual  consciousness  as  man, — because 
even  now  it  is  scarcely  conscious." 

Gervase  laughed. 

"  Why,  that  beginning  of  the  soul  in  pro- 
toplasm is  part  of  a  creed  which  the  Prin- 
cess Ziska  was  trying  to  teach  me  to-day," 
he  said  lightly.  "  It's  all  no  use.  I  don't 
believe  in  the  soul ;  if  I  did,  I  should  be  a 
miserable  man." 

"Why?"  asked  Murray.       . 

"  Why  ?     Because,    my    dear    fellow,    I 


1 66  ZISKA 

should  be  rather  afraid  of  my  future.  I 
should  not  like  to  live  again  ;  I  might  have 
to  remember  certain  incidents  which  I  would 
rather  forget.  There  is  your  charming  sister, 
Mademoiselle  Helen  !  I  must  go  and  talk 
to  her, — her  conversation  always  does  me 
good ;  and  after  that  picture  which  I  have 
been  unfortunate  enough  to  produce,  her 
presence  will  be  as  soothing  as  the  freshness 
of  morning  after  an  unpleasant  nightmare." 

He  moved  away ;  Denzil  Murray  with 
Courtney  followed  him.  Dr.  Dean  remained 
behind,  and  presently  sitting  down  in  a  re- 
tired corner  of  the  garden  alone,  he  took 
out  a  small  pocket-book  and  stylographic 
pen  and  occupied  himself  for  more  than  half 
an  hour  in  busily  writing  till  he  had  covered 
two  or  three  pages  with  his  small,  neat  calig- 
raphy. 

"  It  is  the  most  interesting  problem  I  ever 
had  the  chance  of  studying !  "  he  murmured 
half  aloud  when  he  had  finished,  "  Of 
course,  if  my  researches  into  the  psychic 
spheres  of  action  are  worth  anything,  it  can 
only  be  one  case  out  of  thousands.  Thous- 
ands? Aye,  perhaps  millions  !  Great  heav- 
ens !  Among  what  terrific  unseen  forces 
we  live !  And  in  exact  proportion  to  every 
man's  arrogant  denial  of  the  '  Divinity  that 


ZISKA  167 

shapes  our  ends,  so  will  be  measured  out  to 
him  the  revelation  of  the  invisible.  Strange 
that  the  human  race  has  never  entirely  real- 
ized as  yet  the  depth  of  meaning  in  the 
words  describing  hell :  '  Where  the  worm 
dieth  not,  and  where  the  flame  is  never 
quenched.  The  '  worm  '  is  Retribution,  the 
'  flame  '  is  the  immortal  Spirit, — and  the  two 
are  forever  striving  to  escape  from  the 
other.  Horrible  !  And  yet  there  are  men 
who  believe  in  neither  one  thing  nor  the 
other,  and  reject  the  Redemption  that  does 
away  with  both !  God  forgive  us  all  our 
sins, — and  especially  the  sins  of  pride  and 
presumption ! " 

And  with  a  shade  of  profound  melancholy 
on  his  features,  the  little  Doctor  put  by  his 
note-book,  and,  avoiding  all  the  hotel  loungers 
on  the  terrace  and  elsewhere,  retired  to  his 
own  room  and  went  to  bed. 


1 68  ZISKA 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE  next  day  when  Armand  Gervase 
went  to  call  on  the  Princess  Ziska  he  was 
refused  admittance.  The  Nubian  attendant 
who  kept  watch  and  ward  at  her  gates,  hear- 
ing the  door-bell  ring,  contented  himself  with 
thrusting  his  ugly  head  through  an  open 
upper  window  and  shouting — 

"  Madame  est  sortie  !  " 

"  Oil  done  ?  "  called  Gervase  in  answer. 

"A  la  campagne — le  desert — les  pyra- 
mides  !  "  returned  the  Nubian,  at  the  same 
time  banging  the  lattice  to  in  order  to  pre- 
vent the  possibility  of  any  further  conversa- 
tion. And  Gervase,  standing  in  the  street 
irresolutely  for  a  moment,  fancied  he  heard 
a  peal  of  malicious  laughter  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

"  Beast !  "  he  muttered,  "  I  must  try  him 
with  a  money  bribe  next  time  I  get  hold  of 
him.  I  wonder  what  I  shall  do  with  myself 
now  ? — haunted  and  brain-ridden  as  I  am  by 
this  woman  and  her  picture  ?  " 


ZISKA  169 

The  hot  sun  glared  in  his  eyes  and  made 
them  ache, — the  rough  stones  of  the  narrow 
street  were  scorching  to  his  feet.  He  began 
to  move  slowly  away  with  a  curious  faint 
sensation  of  giddiness  and  sickness  upon 
him,  when  the  sound  of  music  floating  from 
the  direction  of  the  Princess  Ziska's  palace 
brought  him  to  a  sudden  standstill.  It  was 
a  strange,  wild  melody,  played  on  some  in- 
strument with  seemingly  muffled  strings.  A 
voice  with  a  deep,  throbbing  thrill  of  sweet- 
ness in  it  began  to  sing : 

Oh,  for  the  passionless  peace  of  the  Lotus-Lily  ! 
It  floats  in  a  waking  dream  on  the  waters  chilly, 

With  its  leaves  unfurled 

To  the  wondering  world, 

Knowing  naught  of  the  sorrow  and  restless  pain 
That  burns  and  tortures  the  human  brain  ; 
Oh,  for  the  passionless  peace  of  the  Lotus-Lily  ! 

Oh,  for  the  pure  cold  heart  of  the  Lotus- Lily  ! 
Bared  to  the  moon  on  the  waters  dark  and  chilly. 

A  star  above 

Is  its  only  love, 

And  one  brief  sigh  of  its  scented  breath 
Is  all  it  will  ever  know  of  Death  ; 
Oh,  for  the  pure  cold  heart  of  the  Lotus-Lily  ! 

When  the  song  ceased,  Gervase  raised  his 
eyes  from  the  ground  on  which  he  had  fixed 
them  in  a  kind  of  brooding  stupor,  and  stared 


I/O  ZISKA 

at  the  burning  blue  of  the  sky  as  vaguely 
and  wildly  as  a  sick  man  in  the  delirium  of 
fever. 

"God!  What  ails  me!"  he  muttered, 
supporting  himself  with  one  hand  against 
the  black  and  crumbling  wall  near  which  he 
stood.  "  Why  should  that  melody  steal 
away  my  strength  and  make  me  think  of 
things  with  which  I  have  surely  no  connec- 
tion !  What  tricks  my  imagination  plays 
me  in  this  city  of  the  Orient — I  might  as 
well  be  hypnotized !  What  have  I  to  do 
with  dreams  of  war  and  triumph  and  rapine 
and  murder,  and  what  is  the  name  of  Ziska- 
Charmazel  to  me?  " 

He  shook  himself  with  the  action  of  a  fine 
brute  that  has  been  stung  by  some  teasing 
insect,  and,  mastering  his  emotions  by  an 
effort,  walked  away.  But  he  was  so  absorbed 
in  strange  thoughts,  that  he  stumbled  up 
against  Denzil  Murray  in  a  side  street  on 
the  way  to  the  Gezireh  Palace  Hotel  without 
seeing  him,  and  would  have  passed  him  alto- 
gether had  not  Denzil  somewhat  fiercely 
said: 

"  Stop  !  " 

Gervase  looked  at  him  bewilderedly. 

"  Why,  Denzil,  is  it  you  ?  My  dear  fel- 
low, forgive  me  my  brusquerie !  I  believe  I 


ZISKA  I/I 

have  got  a  stroke  of  the  sun,  or  something 
of  the  sort  ;  I  assure  you  I  hardly  know 
what  I  am  doing  or  where  I  am  going  !  " 

"  I  believe  it ! "  said  Denzil,  hoarsely. 
"  You  are  as  mad  as  I  am — for  love  ! " 

Gervase  smiled  ;  a  slight  incredulous  smile. 

"  You  think  so?  I  am  not  sure !  If  love 
makes  a  man  as  thoroughly  unstrung  and 
nervous  as  I  am  to-day,  then  love  is  a  very 
bad  illness." 

"  It  is  the  worst  illness  in  the  world,"  said 
Denzil,  speaking  hurriedly  and  wildly. 
44  The  most  cruel  and  torturing  !  And  there 
is  no  cure  for  it  save  death.  My  God,  Ger- 
vase !  You  were  my  friend  but  yesterday  ! 
I  never  should  have  thought  it  possible  to 
hate  you ! " 

"  Yet  you  do  hate  me  ?  "  queried  Gervase, 
still  smiling  a  little. 

"  Hate  you  ?  I  could  kill  you  !  You 
have  been  with  her  !  " 

Quietly  Gervase  took  his  arm. 

"  My  good  Denzil,  you  are  mistaken  !  I 
confess  to  you  frankly  I  should  have  been 
with  her — you  mean  the  Princess  Ziska,  of 
course — had  it  been  possible.  But  she  has 
fled  the  city  for  the  moment — at  least,  ac- 
cording to  the  corpse-like  Nubian  who  acts 
as  porter." 


1/2  ZISKA 

"  He  lies  !  "  exclaimed  Denzil,  hotly.  "  I 
saw  her  this  morning." 

"  I  hope  you  improved  your  opportunity," 
said  Gervase,  imperturbably.  "  Anyway,  at 
the  present  moment  she  is  not  visible." 

A  silence  fell  between  them  for  some 
minutes  ;  then  Denzil  spoke  again. 

"  Gervase,  it  is  no  use,  I  cannot  stand  this 
sort  of  thing.  We  must  have  it  out.  What 
does  it  all  mean  ?  " 

"  It  is  difficult  to  explain,  my  dear  boy," 
answered  Gervase,  half  seriously,  half  mock- 
ingly. "  It  means,  I  presume,  that  we  are 
both  in  love  with  the  same  woman,  and  that 
we  both  intend  to  try  our  chances  with  her. 
But,  as  I  told  you  the  other  night,  I  do  not 
see  why  we  should  quarrel  about  it.  Your 
intentions  towards  the  Princess  are  honorable 
— mine  are  dishonorable,  and  I  shall  make 
no  secret  of  them.  If  you  win  her,  I 
shall  .  .  ." 

He  paused,  and  there  was  a  sudden  look 
in  his  eyes  which  gave  them  a  sombre  dark- 
ness, darker  than  their  own  natural  color. 

"  You  shall — what  ?  "  asked  Denzil. 

"  Do  something  desperate,"  replied  Ger- 
vase. "  What  the  something  will  be  depends 
on  the  humor  of  the  moment.  A  tiger 
balked  of  his  prey  is  not  an  agreeable  beast ; 


ZISKA  173 

a  strong  man  deprived  of  the  woman  he 
passionately  desires  is  a  little  less  agreeable 
even  than  the  tiger.  But  let  us  adopt  the 
policy  of  laissez-faire.  Nothing  is  decided  ; 
the  fair  one  cares  for  neither  of  us ;  let  us  be 
friends  until  she  makes  her  choice." 

"We  cannot  be  friends,"  said  Denzil, 
sternly. 

"  Good  !  Let  us  be  foes  then,  but  court- 
eous, even  in  our  quarrel,  dear  boy.  If  we 
must  kill  each  other,  let  us  do  it  civilly. 
To  fly  at  each  other's  throats  would  be 
purely  barbaric.  We  owe  a  certain  duty  to 
civilization;  things  have  progressed  since 
the  days  of  Araxes." 

Denzil  stared  at  him  gloomily. 

"  Araxes  is  Dr.  Dean's  fad,"  he  said. 
"  I  don't  know  anything  about  Egyptian 
mummies,  and  don't  want  to  know.  My 
matter  is  with  the  present,  and  not  with  the 
past." 

They  had  reached  the  hotel  by  this  time, 
and  turned  into  the  gardens  side  by  side. 

"  You  understand  ? "  repeated  Denzil. 
"  We  cannot  be  friends  !  " 

Gervase  gave  him  a  profoundly  courteous 
salute,  and  the  two  separated. 

Later  on  in  the  afternoon,  about  an  hour 
before  dinner-time,  Gervase,  strolling  on  the 


174  ZISKA 

terrace  of  the  hotel  alone,  saw  Helen  Murray 
seated  at  a  little  distance  under  some  trees, 
with  a  book  in  her  hand  which  she  was  not 
reading.  There  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  but 
as  he  approached  her  she  furtively  dashed 
them  away  and  greeted  him  with  a  poor 
attempt  at  a  smile. 

"You  have  a  moment  to  spare  me?  "  he 
asked,  sitting  down  beside  her. 

She  bent  her  head  in  acquiescence. 

"  I  am  a  very  unhappy  man,  Mademoiselle 
Helen,"  he  began,  looking  at  her  with  a  cer- 
tain compassionate  tenderness  as  he  spoke. 
"  I  want  your  sympathy,  but  I  know  I  do 
not  deserve  it." 

Helen  remained  silent.  A  faint  flush 
crimsoned  her  cheeks,  but  her  eyes  were 
veiled  under  the  long  lashes — she  thought  he 
could  not  see  them. 

"  You  remember,"  he  went  on,  "  our  pleas- 
ant times  in  Scotland  ?  Ah,  it  is  a  restful 
place,  your  Highland  home,  with  the  beauti- 
ful purple  hills  rolling  away  in  the  distance, 
and  the  glorious  moors  covered  with  fragrant 
heather,  and  the  gurgling  of  the  river  that 
runs  between  birch  and  fir  and  willow,  making 
music  all  day  long  for  those  who  have  the 
ears  to  listen,  and  the  hearts  to  understand 
the  pretty  love  tune  it  sings  !  You  know 


ZISKA  175 

Frenchmen  always  have  more  or  less  sym- 
pathy with  the  Scotch — some  old  association, 
perhaps,  with  the  romantic  times  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots,  when  the  light  and  change- 
ful fancies  of  Chastelard  and  his  brother 
poets  and  lutists  made  havoc  in  the  hearts 
of  many  a  Highland  maiden.  What  is  that 
bright  drop  on  your  hand,  Helen  ? — are  you 
crying  ?  "  He  waited  a  moment,  and  his 
voice  was  softer  and  more  tremulous.  "  Dear 
girl,  I  am  not  worthy  of  tears.  I  am  not 
good  enough  for  you." 

He  gave  her  time  to  recover  her  momen- 
tary emotion  and  then  went  on,  still  softly 
and  tenderly  : 

"  Listen,  Helen.  I  want  you  to  believe 
me  and  forgive  me,  if  you  can.  I  know — I 
remember  those  moonlight  evenings  in  Scot- 
land— holy  and  happy  evenings,  as  sweet  as 
flower-scented  pages  in  a  young  girl's  missal ; 
yes,  and  I  did  not  mean  to  play  with  you, 
Helen,  or  wound  your  gentle  heart.  I  al- 
most loved  you !  "  He  spoke  the  words 
passionately,  and  for  a  moment  she  raised 
her  eyes  and  looked  at  him  in  something  of 
fear  as  well  as  sorrow.  " '  Yes,'  I  said  to  my 
self,  '  this  woman,  so  true  and  pure  and  fair, 
is  a  bride  for  a  king ;  and  if  I  can  win  her — 
if ! '  Ah,  there  my  musings  stopped.  But 


1 76  ZISKA 

I  came  to  Egypt  chiefly  to  meet  you  again, 
knowing  that  you  and  your  brother  were  in 
Cairo.  How  was  I  to  know,  how  was  I  to 
guess  that  this  horrible  thing  would  happen  ?  " 

Helen  gazed  at  him  wonderingly. 

"  What  horrible  thing  ?  "  she  asked,  falter- 
ingly,  the  rich  color  coming  and  going  on 
her  face,  and  her  heart  beating  violently  as 
she  put  the  question. 

His  eyes  flashed. 

"This,"  he  answered.  "The  close  and 
pernicious  enthralment  of  a  woman  I  never 
met  till  the  night  before  last ;  a  woman  whose 
face  haunts  me  ;  a  woman  who  drags  me  to 
her  side  with  the  force  of  a  magnet,  there  to 
grovel  like  a  brain-sick  fool  and  plead  with 
her  for  a  love  which  I  already  know  is  poison 
to  my  soul !  Helen,  Helen  !  You  do  not 
understand — you  will  never  understand ! 
Here,  in  the  very  air  I  breathe,  I  fancy  I 
can  trace  the  perfume  she  shakes  from  her 
garments  as  she  moves  ;  something  inde- 
scribably fascinating  yet  terrible  attracts  me 
to  her ;  it  is  an  evil  attraction,  I  know,  but  I 
cannot  resist  it.  There  is  something  wicked 
in  every  man's  nature  ;  I  am  conscious 
enough  that  there  is  something  detestably 
wicked  in  mine,  and  I  have  not  sufficient 
goodness  to  overbalance  it.  And  this 


ZISKA  177 

woman, — this  silent,  gliding,  glittering-eyed 
creature  that  has  suddenly  taken  possession 
of  my  fancy — she  overcomes  me  in  spite  of 
myself ;  she  makes  havoc  of  all  the  good  in- 
tentions of  my  life.  I  admit  it — I  confess  it !  " 

"  You  are  speaking  of  the  Princess  Ziska  ?  " 
asked  Helen,  tremblingly. 

"Of  whom  else  should  I  speak?"  he  re- 
sponded, dreamily.  "  There  is  no  one  like 
her ;  probably  there  never  was  anyone  like 
her,  except,  perhaps,  Ziska-Charmazel !  " 

As  the  name  passed  his  lips,  he  sprang 
hastily  up  and  stood  amazed,  as  though  some 
sudden  voice  had  called  him.  Helen  Murray 
looked  at  him  in  alarm. 

"  Oh,  what  is  it  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

He  forced  a  laugh. 

"  Nothing — nothing — but  a  madness  !  I 
suppose  it  is  all  a  part  of  my  strange  malady. 
Your  brother  is  stricken  with  the  same  fever. 
Surely  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  do  know  it,"  Helen  answered, 
"  to  my  sorrow  !  " 

He  regarded  her  intently.  Her  face  in  its 
pure  outline  and  quiet  sadness  of  expression 
touched  him  more  than  he  cared  to  own 
even  to  himself. 

"  My  dear  Helen,"  he  said,  with  an  effort 
at  composure,  "  I  have  been  talking  wildly  ; 

12 


1/8  ZISKA 

you  must  forgive  me !  Don't  think  about 
me  at  all ;  I  am  not  worth  it  !  Denzil  has 
taken  it  into  his  head  to  quarrel  with  me  on 
account  of  the  Princess  Ziska,  but  I  assure 
you  I  will  not  quarrel  with  him.  He  is  in- 
fatuated, and  so  am  I.  The  best  thing  for 
all  of  us  to  do  would  be  to  leave  Egypt  in- 
stantly ;  I  feel  that  instinctively,  only  we 
cannot  do  it.  Something  holds  us  here. 
You  will  never  persuade  Denzil  to  go,  and  I 
— I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  go.  There 
is  a  clinging  sweetness  in  the  air  for  me; 
and  there  are  vague  suggestions,  memories, 
dreams,  histories — wonderful  things  which 
hold  me  spell-bound  !  I  wish  I  could  analyze 
them,  recognize  them,  or  understand  them. 
But  I  cannot,  and  there,  perhaps,  is  their 
secret  charm.  Only  one  thing  grieves  me, 
and  that  is,  that  I  have,  perhaps,  unwittingly, 
in  some  thoughtless  way,  given  you  pain ;  is 
it  so,  Helen?" 

She  rose  quickly,  and  with  a  quiet  dignity 
held  out  her  hand. 

"  No,  Monsieur  Gervase,  "  she  said,  "  it  is 
not  so.  I  am  not  one  of  those  women  who 
take  every  little  idle  word  said  by  men  in 
jest  au  grand  serieux !  You  have  always 
been  a  kind  and  courteous  friend,  and  if  you 
ever  fancied  you  had  a  warmer  feeling  for 


ZISKA  179 

me,  as  you  say,  I  am  sure  you  were  mistaken. 
We  often  delude  ourselves  in  these  matters. 
I  wish,  for  your  sake,  I  could  think  the  Prin- 
cess Ziska  worthy  of  the  love  she  so  readily 
inspires.  But, — I  cannot !  My  brother's 
infatuation  for  her  is  to  me  terrible.  I  feel 
it  will  break  his  heart, — and  mine ! "  A 
little  half  sob  caught  her  breath  and  inter- 
rupted her  ;  she  paused,  but  presently  went 
on  with  an  effort  at  calmness :  "  You  talk  of 
our  leaving  Egypt ;  how  I  wish  that  were 
possible  !  But  I  spoke  to  Denzil  about  it 
on  the  night  of  the  ball,  and  he  was  furious 
with  me  for  the  mere  suggestion.  It  seems 
like  an  evil  fate." 

"  It  is  an  evil  fate,"  said  Gervase  gloomily. 
"Enfin,my  dear  Helen,  we  cannot  escape 
from  it, — at  least,  /  cannot.  But  I  never 
was  intended  for  good  things,  not  even  for  a 
lasting  love.  A  lasting  love  I  feel  would 
bore  me.  You  look  amazed  ;  you  believe 
in  lasting  love  ?  So  do  many  sweet  women. 
But  do  you  know  what  symbol  I,  as  an  ar- 
tist, would  employ  were  I  asked  to  give  my 
idea  of  Love  on  my  canvas?" 

Helen  smiled  sadly  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  would  paint  a  glowing  flame,"  said 
Gervase  dreamily.  "  A  flame  leaping  up 
from  the  pit  of  hell  to  the  height  of  heaven, 


180  ZISKA 

springing  in  darkness,  lost  in  light ;  and  flying 
into  the  centre  of  that  flame  should  be  a 
white  moth — a  blind,  soft,  mad  thing  with 
beating,  tremulous  wings, — that  should  be 
Love  !  Whirled  into  the  very  heart  of  the 
ravening  fire, — crushed,  shrivelled  out  of 
existence  in  one  wild,  rushing  rapture — that 
is  what  Love  must  be  to  me  !  One  cannot 
prolong  passion  over  fifty  years,  more  or 
less,  of  commonplace  routine,  as  marriage 
would  have  us  do.  The  very  notion  is  ab- 
surd. Love  is  like  a  choice  wine  of  exqui- 
site bouquet  and  intoxicating  flavor ;  it  is 
the  most  maddening  draught  in  the  world, 
but  you  cannot  drink  it  every  day.  No,  my 
dear  Helen  ;  I  am  not  made  for  a  quiet  life, 
— nor  for  a  long  one,  I  fancy." 

His  voice  unconsciously  sank  into  a  mel- 
ancholy tone,  and  for  one  moment  Helen's 
composure  nearly  gave  way.  She  loved 
him  as  true  women  love,  with  that  sublime 
self-sacrifice  which  only  desires  the  happiness 
of  the  thing  beloved ;  yet  a  kind  of  insen- 
sate rage  stirred  for  once  in  her  gentle  soul 
to  think  that  the  mere  sight  of  a  strange 
woman  with  dark  eyes, — a  woman  whom  no 
one  knew  anything  about,  and  who  was  by 
some  people  deemed  a  mere  adventuress, — 
should  have  so  overwhelmed  this  man  whose 


ZISKA  I8l 

genius  she  had  deemed  superior  to  fleeting 
impressions.  Controlling  the  tears  that  rose 
to  her  eyes  and  threatened  to  fall,  she  said 
gently, 

"  Good-bye,  Monsieur  Gervase  !  " 

He  started  as  from  a  reverie. 

"  Good-bye,  Helen  !  Some  day  you  will 
think  kindly  of  me  again  ?  " 

"  I  think  kindly  of  you  now,"  she  answered 
tremulously  ;  then,  not  trusting  herself  to 
say  any  more,  she  turned  swiftly  and  left  him. 

"The  flame  and  the  moth  !"  he  mused, 
watching  her  slight  figure  till  it  had  dis- 
appeared. •'  Yes,  it  is  the  only  fitting  sym- 
bol. Love  must  be  always  so.  Sudden, 
impetuous,  ungovernable,  and  then — the 
end  !  To  stretch  out  the  divine  passion  over 
life-long  breakfasts  and  dinners  !  It  would 
be  intolerable  to  me.  Lord  Fulkeward  could 
do  that  sort  of  thing  ;  his  chest  is  narrow, 
and  his  sentiments  are  as  limited  as  his  chest. 
He  would  duly  kiss  his  wife  every  morning 
and  evening,  and  he  would  not  analyze  the 
fact  that  no  special  thrill  of  joy  stirred  in 
him  at  the  action.  What  should  he  do  with 
thrills  of  joy — this  poor  Fulkeward  ?  And 
yet  it  is  likely  he  will  marry  Helen.  Or  will 
it  be  the  Courtney  animal, — the  type  of  man 
whose  one  idea  is  '  to  arise,  kill,  and  eat  ? '  " 


1 82  ZISKA 

All,  well !  "  and  he  sighed.  "  She  is  not  for 
me,  this  maiden  grace  of  womanhood.  If  I 
married  her,  I  should  make  her  miserable.  I 
am  made  for  passion,  not  for  peace." 

He  started  as  he  heard  a  step  behind  him, 
and  turning,  saw  Dr.  Dean.  The  worthy 
little  savant  looked  worried  and  preoccupied. 

"  I  have  had  a  letter  from  the  Princess 
Ziska,"  he  said,  without  any  preliminary. 
"  She  has  gone  to  secures  rooms  at  the  Mena 
House  Hotel,  which  is  situated  close  to  the 
Pyramids.  She  regrets  she  cannot  enter  into 
the  idea  of  taking  a  trip  up  the  Nile.  She 
has  no  time,  she  says,  as  she  is  soon  leaving 
Cairo.  But  she  suggests  that  we  should 
make  up  a  party  for  the  Mena  House  while 
she  is  staying  there,  as  she  can,  so  she  tells 
me,  make  the  Pyramids  much  more  interest- 
ing for  us  by  her  intimate  knowledge  of  them. 
Now,  to  me  this  is  a  very  tempting  offer, 
but  I  should  not  care  to  go  alone." 

"  The  Hurrays  will  go,  I  am  sure,"  mur- 
mured Gervase  lazily.  "  At  any  rate,  Denzil 
will." 

The  Doctor  looked  at  him  narrowly. 

"  If  Denzil  goes,  so  will  you  go,"  he  said. 
"  Thus  there  are  two  already  booked  for 
company.  And  I  fancy  the  Fulkewards 
might  like  the  idea." 


ZISKA  183 

"  The  Princess  is  leaving  Cairo  ?  "  queried 
Gervase  presently,  as  though  it  were  an 
after  thought. 

"  So  she  informs  me  in  her  letter.  The 
party  which  is  to  come  off  on  Wednesday 
night  is  her  last  reception." 

Gervase  was  silent  a  moment.  Then  he 
said  : 

"  Have  you  told  Denzil  ?  " 

"  Not  yet." 

"  Better  do  so  then,"  and  Gervase  glanced 
up  at  the  sky,  now  glowing  red  with  a  fiery 
sunset.  "  He  wants  to  propose,  you  know." 

"  Good  God  !  "  cried  the  Doctor,  sharply, 
"  If  he  proposes  to  that  woman.  .  .  ." 

"  Why  should  he  not  ?  "  demanded  Ger- 
vase. "  Is  she  not  as  ripe  for  love  and  fit  for 
marriage  as  any  other  of  her  sex  ?  " 

"  Her  sex  !  "  echoed  the  Doctor  grimly. 
"  Her  sex ! —  There ! — for  heaven's  sake 
don't  talk  to  me  ! — leave  me  alone !  The 
Princess  Ziska  is  like  no  woman  living ;  she 
has  none  of  the  sentiments  of  a  woman, — 
and  the  notion  of  Denzil's  being  such  a  fool 
as  to  think  of  proposing  to  her — Oh,  leave 
me  alone,  I  tell  you  !  Let  me  worry  this 
out!  " 

And  clapping  his  hat  well  down  over  his 
eyes,  he  began  to  walk  away  in  a  strange 


184  ZISKA 

condition  of  excitement,  which  he  evidently 
had  some  difficulty  in  suppressing.  Sud- 
denly, however,  he  turned,  came  back  and 
tapped  Gervase  smartly  on  the  chest. 

"  You  are  the  man  for  the  Princess,"  he 
said  impressively.  "  There  is  a  madness  in 
you  which  you  call  love  for  her  ;  you  are  her 
fitting  mate,  not  that  poor  boy,  Denzil  Mur- 
ray. In  certain  men  and  women  spirit  leaps 
to  spirit, — note  responds  to  note — and  if  all 
the  world  were  to  interpose  its  trumpery 
bulk,  nothing  could  prevent  such  tumultuous 
forces  rushing  together.  Follow  your  des- 
tiny, Monsieur  Gervase,  but  do  not  ruin 
another  man's  life  on  the  way.  Follow  your 
destiny, — complete  it, — you  are  bound  to  do 
so, — but  in  the  havoc  and  wildness  to  come, 
for  God's  sake,  let  the  innocent  go  free ! " 

He  spoke  with  extraordinary  solemnity, 
and  Gervase  stared  at  him  in  utter  bewilder- 
ment and  perplexity,  not  understanding  in 
the  least  what  he  meant.  But  before  he 
could  interpose  a  word  or  ask  a  question, 
Dr.  Dean  had  gone. 


ZISKA  185 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  next  two  or  three  days  passed  without 
any  incident  of  interest  occurring  to  move  the 
languid  calm  and  excite  the  fleeting  interest 
of  the  fashionable  English  and  European 
visitors  who  were  congregated  at  the  Gezireh 
Palace  Hotel.  The  anxious  flirtations  of 
Dolly  and  Muriel  Chetwynd  Lyle  afforded 
subjects  of  mirth  to  the  profane, — the 
wonderfully  youthful  toilettes  of  Lady 
Fulkeward  provided  several  keynotes  from 
which  to  strike  frivolous  conversation, — and 
when  the  great  painter,  Armand  Gervase, 
actually  made  a  sketch  of  her  ladyship  for 
his  own  amusement,  and  made  her  look 
about  sixteen,  and  girlish  at  that,  his  popu- 
larity knew  no  bounds.  Everyone  wanted 
to  give  him  a  commission,  particularly  the 
elderly  fair,  and  he  could  have  made  a  fortune 
had  he  chosen,  after  the  example  set  him  by 
the  English  academicians,  by  painting  the 
portraits  of  ugly  nobodies  who  were  ready  to 
pay  any  price  to  be  turned  out  as  handsome 


1 86  ZISKA 

somebodies.  But  he  was  too  restless  and 
ill  at  ease  to  apply  himself  steadily  to  work, 
• — the  glowing  skies  of  Egypt,  the  picturesque 
groups  of  natives  to  be  seen  at  every  turn, 
— the  curious  corners  of  old  Cairo — these 
made  no  impression  upon  his  mind  at  all, 
and  when  he  was  alone,  he  passed  whole 
half  hours  staring  at  the  strange  picture  he 
had  made  of  the  Princess  Ziska,  wherein  the 
face  of  death  seemed  confronting  him  through 
a  mask  of  life.  And  he  welcomed  with  a 
strong  sense  of  relief  and  expectation  the 
long-looked-for  evening  of  the  Princess's 
"reception,"  to  which  many  of  the  visitors 
in  Cairo  had  been  invited  since  a  fortnight, 
and  which  those  persons  who  always  profess 
to  be  "  in  the  know,"  even  if  they  are  wallow- 
ing in  ignorance,  declared  would  surpass  any 
entertainment  ever  given  during  the  Cairene 
season. 

The  night  came  at  last.  It  was  exceed- 
ingly sultry,  but  bright  and  clear,  and  the 
moon  shone  with  effective  brilliance  on  the 
gayly-attired  groups  of  people  that  between 
nine  and  ten  o'clock  began  to  throng  the 
narrow  street  in  which  the  carved  tomb-like 
portal  of  the  Princess  Ziska's  residence  was 
the  most  conspicuous  object.  Lady  Chet- 
wynd  Lyle,  remarkable  for  bad  taste  in  her 


ZISKA  1 87 

dress  and  the  disposal  of  her  diamonds,  stared 
in  haughty  amazement  at  the  Nubian,  who 
saluted  her  and  her  daughters  with  the  grin 
peculiar  to  his  uninviting  cast  of  countenance, 
and  swept  into  the  courtyard  attended  by 
her  husband  with  an  air  as  though  she  im- 
agined her  presence  gave  the  necessary  flavor 
of  "  good  style  "  to  the  proceedings.  She 
was  followed  by  Lady  Fulkeward,  innocently 
clad  in  white  and  wearing  a  knot  of  lilies  on 
her  prettily-enamelled  left  shoulder,  Lord 
Fulkeward,  Denzil  Murray  and  his  sister. 
Helen  also  wore  white,  but  though  she 
was  in  the  twenties  and  Lady  Fulkeward 
was  in  the  sixties,  the  girl  had  so  much  sad- 
ness in  her  face  and  so  much  tragedy  in  her 
soft  eyes  that  she  looked,  if  anything,  older 
than  the  old  woman.  Gervase  and  Dr.  Dean 
arrived  together,  and  found  themselves  in 
a  brilliant,  crushing  crowd  of  people,  all  of 
different  nationalities  and  all  manifesting  a 
good  deal  of  impatience  because  they  were 
delayed  a  few  minutes  in  an  open  court, 
where  a  couple  of  stone  lions  with  wings 
were  the  only  spectators  of  their  costumes. 
"  Most  singular  behavior !  "  said  Lady 
Chetwynd  Lyle,  snorting  and  sniffing,  "  to 
keep  us  waiting  outside  like  this !  The 
Princess  has  no  idea  of  European  manners  ! " 


1 88  ZISKA 

As  she  spoke,  a  sudden  blaze  of  light 
flamed  on  the  scene,  and  twenty  tall  Egyptian 
servants  in  white,  with  red  turbans,  carrying 
lighted  torches  and  marching  two  by  two 
crossed  the  court,  and  by  mute  yet  stately 
gestures  invited  the  company  to  follow. 
And  the  company  did  follow  in  haste,  with 
scramble  and  rudeness,  as  is  the  way  of 
"  European  manners  "  nowadays  ;  and  pres- 
ently, having  been  relieved  of  their  cloaks  and 
wrappings,  stood  startled  and  confounded 
in  a  huge  hall  richly  adorned  with  silk  and 
cloth  of  gold  hangings,  where,  between  two 
bronze  sphinxes,  the  Princess  Ziska,  attired 
wonderfully  in  a  dim,  pale  rose  color,  with 
flecks  of  jewels  flashing  from  her  draperies 
here  and  there,  waited  to  receive  her  guests. 
Like  a  queen  she  stood, — behind  her  tow- 
ered a  giant  palm,  and  at  her  feet  were 
strewn  roses  and  lotus-lilies.  On  either  side 
of  her,  seated  on  the  ground,  were  young 
girls  gorgeously  clad  and  veiled  to  the  eyes 
in  the  Egyptian  fashion,  and  as  the  staring, 
heated  and  impetuous  swarm  of  "  travelling  " 
English  and  Americans  came  face  to  face 
with  her  in  her  marvellous  beauty,  they  were 
for  the  moment  stricken  spellbound,  and  could 
scarcely  summon  up  the  necessary  assurance 
to  advance  and  take  the  hand  she  out- 


ZISKA  -  189 

stretched  to  them  in  welcome.  She  appeared 
not  to  see  the  general  embarrassment,  and 
greeted  all  who  approached  her  with  court- 
eous ease  and  composure,  speaking  the  few 
words  which  every  graceful  hostess  deems 
adequate  before  "  passing  on  "  her  visitors. 
And  presently  music  began, — music  wild  and 
fantastic,  of  a  character  unknown  to  modern 
fashionable  ears,  yet  strangely  familiar  to 
Armand  Gervase,  who  started  at  the  first 
sound  of  it,  and  seemed  enthralled. 

"  That  is  not  an  ordinary  orchestra,"  said 
Dr.  Dean  in  his  ear.  "  The  instruments  are 
ancient,  and  the  form  of  melody  is  barbaric." 

Gervase  answered  nothing,  for  the  Princess 
Ziska  just  then  approached  them. 

"  Come  into  the  Red  Saloon,"  she  said. 
"  I  am  persuading  my  guests  to  pass  on  there. 
I  have  an  old  bas-relief  on  the  walls  which  I 
would  like  you  to  see, — you,  especially,  Dr. 
Dean  ! — for  you  are  so  learned  in  antiquities. 
I  hear  you  are  trying  to  discover  traces  of 
Araxes  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  replied  the  Doctor.  "You  in- 
terested me  very  much  in  his  history." 

"  He  was  a  great  man,"  said  the  Princess, 
slowly  piloting  them  as  she  spoke,  without 
hurry  and  with  careful  courtesy,  through  the 
serried  ranks  of  the  now  freely  chattering  and 


I  go  •  ZISKA 

animated  company.  "  Much  greater  than 
any  of  your  modern  heroes.  But  he  had 
two  faults ;  faults  which  frequently  accom- 
pany the  plentitude  of  power, — cruelty  and 
selfishness.  He  betrayed  and  murdered  the 
only  woman  that  ever  loved  him,  Ziska- 
Charmazel." 

"  Murdered  her !  "  exclaimed  Dr.  Dean. 
"How?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  only  a  legend  !  "  and  the  Prin- 
cess smiled,  turning  her  dark  eyes  with  a  be- 
witching languor  on  Gervase,  who,  for  some 
reason  or  other  which  he  could  not  explain, 
felt  as  if  he  were  walking  in  a  dream  on  the 
edge  of  a  deep  chasm  of  nothingness,  into 
which  he  must  presently  sink  to  utter  de- 
struction. "  All  these  old  histories  happened 
so  long  ago  that  they  are  nothing  but  myths 
now  to  the  present  generation." 

"Time  does  not  rob  any  incident  of  its 
interest  to  me,"  said  Dr.  Dean.  "Ages 
hence  Queen  Victoria  will  be  as  much  a 
doubtful  potentate  as  King  Lud.  To  the 
wise  student  of  things  there  is  no  time  and 
no  distance.  All  history  from  the  very  be- 
ginning is  like  a  wonderful  chain  in  which 
no  link  is  ever  really  broken,  and  in  which 
every  part  fits  closely  to  the  other  part, — 
though  why  the  chain  should  exist  at  all  is 


ZISKA  IQI 

a  mystery  we  cannot  solve.  Yet  I  am  quite 
certain  that  even  our  late  friend  Araxes  has 
his  connection  with  the  present,  if  only  for 
the  reason  that  he  lived  in  the  past." 

"  How  do  you  argue  out  that  theory !  " 
asked  Gervase  with  sudden  interest. 

"  How  do  you  argue  it  ?  The  question  is, 
how  can  you  argue  at  all  about  anything 
that  is  so  plain  and  demonstrated  a  fact  ? 
The  doctrine  of  evolution  proves  it.  Every- 
thing that  we  were  once  has  its  part  in  us 
now.  Suppose,  if  you  like,  that  we  were 
originally  no  more  than  shells  on  the  shore, 
— some  remnant  of  the  nature  of  the  shell 
must  be  in  us  at  this  moment.  Nothing 
is  lost, — nothing  is  wasted, — not  even  a 
thought.  I  carry  my  theories  very  far," 
pursued  the  Doctor,  looking  keenly  from 
one  to  the  other  of  his  silent  companions  as 
they  walked  beside  him  through  a  long  cor- 
ridor towards  the  Red  Saloon,  which  could 
be  seen,  brilliantly  lit  up  and  thronged  with 
people.  "  Very  far  indeed,  especially  in 
regard  to  matters  of  love.  I  maintain  that  if 
it  is  decreed  that  the  soul  of  a  man  and  the 
soul  of  a  woman  must  meet, — must  rush 
together, — not  all  the  forces  of  the  uni- 
verse can  hinder  them  ;  aye,  even  if  they 
were,  for  some  conventional  cause  or  cir- 


IQ2  ZISKA 

cumstance  themselves  reluctant  to  consum- 
mate their  destiny,  it  would  nevertheless, 
despite  them,  be  consummated.  For  mark 
you, — in  some  form  or  other  they  have 
rushed  together  before  !  Whether  as  flames 
in  the  air,  or  twining  leaves  on  a  tree,  or 
flowers  in  a  field,  they  have  felt  the  sweet- 
ness and  fitness  of  each  other's  being  in  former 
lives, — and  the  craving  sense  of  that  sweet- 
ness and  fitness  can  never  be  done  away  with, 
— never !  Not  as  long  as  this  present  universe 
lasts !  It  is  a  terrible  thing,"  continued  the 
Doctor  in  a  lower  tone,  "  a  terrible  fatality, — 
the  desire  of  love.  In  some  cases  it  is  a  curse ; 
in "  others,  a  divine  and  priceless  blessing. 
The  results  depend  entirely  on  the  tempera- 
ments of  the  human  creatures  possessed  by 
its  fever.  When  it  kindles,  rises  and  burns 
towards  Heaven  in  a  steady  flame  of  ever- 
brightening  purity  and  faith,  then  it  makes 
marriage  the  most  perfect  union  on  earth, 
— the  sweetest  and  most  blessed  companion- 
ship ;  but  when  it  is  a  mere  gust  of  fire, 
bright  and  fierce  as  the  sudden  leaping  light 
of  a  volcano,  then  it  withers  everything  at  a 
touch, — faith,  honor,  truth, — and  dies  into 
dull  ashes  in  which  no  spark  remains  to 
warm  or  inspire  man's  higher  nature.  Bet- 
ter death  than  such  a  love, — for  it  works 


ZISKA  193 

misery  on  earth  ;  but  who  can  tell  what  hor- 
rors it  may  not  create  Hereafter  !  " 

The  Princess  looked  at  him  with  a  strange, 
weird  gleam  in  her  dark  eyes. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said.  "  It  is  just  the 
Hereafter  that  men  never  think  of.  I  am 
glad  you,  at  least,  acknowledge  the  truth  of 
the  life  beyond  death." 

"  I  am  bound  to  acknowledge  it,"  returned 
the  Doctor  ;  "  inasmuch  as  I  know  it 
exists." 

Gervase  glanced  at  him  with  a  smile,  in 
which  there  was  something  of  contempt. 

"  You  are  very  much  behind  the  age, 
Doctor,"  he  remarked  lightly. 

"  Very  much  behind  indeed,"  agreed  Dr. 
Dean  composedly.  "  The  age  rushes  on  too 
rapidly  for  me,  and  gives  no  time  to  the  con- 
sideration of  things  by  the  way.  I  stop, — 
I  take  breathing  space  in  which  to  think  ; 
life  without  thought  is  madness,  and  I  desire 
to  have  no  part  in  a  mad  age." 

At  that  moment  they  entered  the  Red 
Saloon,  a  stately  apartment,  which  was 
entirely  modelled  after  the  most  ancient 
forms  of  Egyptian  architecture.  The  centre 
of  the  vast  room  was  quite  clear  of  furniture, 
so  that  the  Princess  Ziska's  guests  went 
wandering  up  and  down,  to  and  fro,  entirely 
'3 


194  ZISKA 

at  their  ease,  without  crush  or  inconveni- 
ence, and  congregated  in  corners  for  conver- 
sation ;  though  if  they  chose  they  could  re- 
cline on  low  divans  and  gorgeously-cush- 
ioned benches  ranged  against  the  walls  and 
sheltered  by  tall  palms  and  flowering  exo- 
tics. The  music  was  heard  to  better  advan- 
tage here  than  in  the  hall  where  the  com- 
pany had  first  been  received  ;  and  as  the 
Princess  moved  to  a  seat  under  the  pale 
green  frondage  of  a  huge  tropical  fern  and 
bade  her  two  companions  sit  beside  her, 
sounds  of  the  wildest,  most  melancholy  and 
haunting  character  began  to  palpitate  upon 
the  air  in  the  mournful,  throbbing  fashion 
in  which  a  nightingale  sings  when  its  soul 
is  burdened  with  love.  The  passionate  tre- 
mor that  shakes  the  bird's  throat  at  mating- 
time  seemed  to  shake  the  unseen  instru- 
ments that  now  discoursed  strange  melody, 
and  Gervase,  listening  dreamily,  felt  a  curi- 
ous contraction  and  aching  at  his  heart  and 
a  sense  of  suffocation  in  his  throat,  combined 
with  an  insatiate  desire  to  seize  in  his  arms 
the  mysterious  Ziska,  with  her  dark  fathom- 
less eyes  and  slight,  yet  voluptuous,  form, — 
to  drag  her  to  his  breast  and  crush  her  there, 
whispering : 

"  Mine ! — mine  !     By  all  the  gods  of  the 


ZISKA.  195 

past  and  present — mine!  Who  shall  tear 
her  from  me, — who  dispute  my  right  to  love 
her — ruin  her — murder  her,  if  I  choose  ?  She 
is  mine  !  " 

"  The  bas-relief  I  told  you  of  is  just  above 
us,"  said  the  Princess  then,  addressing  her- 
self to  the  Doctor  ;  "  would  you  like  to  ex- 
amine it  ?  One  of  the  servants  shall  bring 
you  a  lighted  taper,  and  by  passing  it  in 
front  of  the  sculpture  you  will  be  able  to  see 
the  design  better.  Ah,  Mr.  Murray !  "  and 
she  smiled  as  she  greeted  Denzil,  who  just 
then  approached.  "  You  are  in  time  to  give 
us  your  opinion.  I  want  Dr.  Dean  to  see 
that  very  old  piece  of  stone  carving  on  the 
wall  above  us, — it  will  serve  as  a  link  for  him 
in  the  history  of  Araxes." 

"  Indeed  !  "  murmured  Denzil,  somewhat 
abstractedly. 

The  Princess  glanced  at  his  brooding  face 
and  laughed. 

"  You,  I  know,  are  not  interested  at  all  in 
old  history,"  she  went  on.  "  The  past  has 
no  attraction  for  you." 

"  No.  The  present  is  enough,"  he  replied, 
with  a  glance  of  mingled  hope  and  passion. 

She  smiled,  and  signing  to  one  of  her 
Egyptian  attendants,  bade  him  bring  a 
lighted  taper.  He  did  so,  and  passed  it 


196  ZISKA 

slowly  up  and  down  and  to  the  right  and  left 
of  the  large  piece  of  ancient  sculpture  that 
occupied  more  than  half  the  wall,  while  Dr. 
Dean  stood  by,  spectacles  on  nose,  to  ex- 
amine the  carving  as  closely  as  possible. 
Several  other  people,  attracted  by  what  was 
going  on,  paused  to  look  also,  and  the  Prin- 
cess undertook  to  explain  the  scene  depicted. 

"This  piece  of  carving  is  of  the  date  of  the 
King  Amenhotep  or  Amenophis  III.,  of  the 
Eighteenth  Dynasty.  It  represents  the  re- 
turn of  the  warrior  Araxes,  a  favorite  servant 
of  the  king's,  after  some  brilliant  victory. 
You  see,  there  is  the  triumphal  car  in  which 
he  rides,  drawn  by  winged  horses,  and  behind 
him  are  the  solar  deities — Ra,  Sikar,  Tmu, 
and  Osiris.  He  is  supposed  to  be  approach- 
ing his  palace  in  triumph  ;  the  gates  are 
thrown  open  to  receive  him,  and  coming  out 
to  meet  him  is  the  chief  favorite  of  his  harem, 
the  celebrated  dancer  of  that  period — Ziska- 
Charmazel." 

"  Whom  he  afterwards  murdered,  you 
say  ?  "  queried  Dr.  Dean  meditatively. 

"  Yes.  He  murdered  her  simply  because 
she  loved  him  too  well  and  was  in  the  way 
of  his  ambition.  There  was  nothing  aston- 
ishing in  his  behavior,  not  even  if  you  con- 
sider it  in  the  light  of  modern  times.  Men 


ZISKA  197 

always  murder — morally,  if  not  physically — > 
the  women  who  love  them  too  well." 

"You  truly  think  that?"  asked  Denzil 
Murray  in 'a  low  tone. 

"  I  not  only  truly  think  it,  I  truly  know  it !  " 
she  answered,  with  a  disdainful  flash  of  her 
eyes.  "  Of  course,  I  speak  of  strong  men 
with  strong  passions  ;  they  are  the  only  kind 
of  men  women  ever  worship.  Of  course,  a 
weak,  good-natured  man  is  different ;  he 
would  probably  not  harm  a  woman  for  the 
world,  or  give  her  the  least  cause  for  pain  if 
he  could  help  it,  but  that  sort  of  man  never 
becomes  either  an  adept  or  a  master  in  love. 
Araxes  was  probably  both.  No  doubt  he 
considered  he  had  a  perfect  right  to  slay 
what  he  had  grown  weary  of;  he  thought 
no  more  than  men  of  his  type  think  to-day, 
that  the  taking  of  a  life  demands  a  life  in 
exchange,  if  not  in  this  world,  then  in  the 
next." 

The  group  of  people  near  her  were  all 
silent,  gazing  with  an  odd  fascination  at  the 
quaint  and  ancient-sculptured  figures  above 
them,  when  all  at  once  Dr.  Dean,  taking  the 
taper  from  the  hands  of  the  Egyptian  servant, 
held  the  flame  close  to  the  features  of  the 
warrior  riding  in  the  car  of  triumph,  and  said 
slowly  : 


198  ZISKA 

"  Do  you  not  see  a  curious  resemblance, 
Princess,  between  this  Araxes  and  a  friend 
of  ours  here  present?  Monsieur  Armand 
Gervase,  will  you  kindly  step  forward  ?  Yes, 
that  will  do,  turn  your  head  slightly, — so ! 
Yes !  Now  observe  the  outline  of  the  fea- 
tures of  Araxes  as  carven  in  this  sculpture 
thousands  of  years  ago,  and  compare  it  with 
the  outline  of  the  features  of  our  celebrated 
friend,  the  greatest  French  artist  of  his  day. 
Am  I  the  only  one  who  perceives  the  re- 
markable similarity  of  contour  and  expres- 
sion ?  " 

The  Princess  made  no  reply.  A  smile 
crossed  her  lips,  but  no  word  escaped  them. 
Several  persons,  however,  pressed  eagerly 
forward  to  look  at  and  comment  upon  what 
was  indeed  a  startling  likeness.  The  same 
straight,  fierce  brows,  the  same  proud,  firm 
mouth,  the  same  almond-shaped  eyes  were, 
as  it  seemed,  copied  from  the  ancient  entab- 
lature and  repeated  in  flesh  and  blood  in  the 
features  of  Gervase.  Even  Denzil  Murray, 
absorbed  though  he  was  in  conflicting 
thoughts  of  his  own,  was  struck  by  the  co- 
incidence. 

"  It  is  really  very  remarkable  !  "  he  said. 
"  Allowing  for  the  peculiar  style  of  drawing 
and  design  common  to  ancient  Egypt,  the 


ZISKA  199 

portrait  of  Araxes  might  pass  for  Gervase  in 
Egyptian  costume." 

Gervase  himself  was  silent.  Some  myste- 
rious emotion  held  him  mute,  and  he  was 
only  aware  of  a  vague  irritation  that  fretted 
him  without  any  seemingly  adequate  cause. 
Dr.  Dean  meanwhile  pursued  his  investiga- 
tions with  the  lighted  taper,  and  presently, 
turning  round  on  the  assembled  little  group 
of  bystanders,  he  said  : 

"  I  have  just  discovered  another  singular 
thing.  The  face  of  the  woman  here — the 
dancer  and  favorite — is  the  face  of  our 
charming  hostess,  the  Princess  Ziska!  " 

Exclamations  of  wonder  greeted  this  an- 
nouncement, and  everybody  craned  their 
necks  to  see.  And  then  the  Princess  spoke, 
slowly  and  languidly. 

"  Yes,"  she  murmured,  "  I  was  hoping  you 
would  perceive  that.  I  myself  noticed  how 
very  like  me  is  the  famous  Ziska-Charmazel, 
and  that  is  just  why  I  dressed  in  her  fashion 
for  the  fancy  ball  the  other  evening.  It 
seemed  to  me  the  best  thing  to  do,  as  I 
wanted  to  choose  an  ancient  period,  and 
then,  you  know,  I  bear  half  her  name." 

Dr.  Dean  looked  at  her  keenly,  and  a 
somewhat  grim  smile  wrinkled  his  lips. 

"You   could  not  have   done  better,"  he 


2OO  ZISKA 

declared.  "  You  and  the  dancing-girl  of 
Araxes  might  be  twin  sisters." 

He  lowered  the  taper  he  held  that  it  might 
more  strongly  illumine  her  face,  and  as  the 
outline  of  her  head  and  throat  and  bust  was 
thrown  into  full  relief,  Gervase,  staring  at 
her,  was  again  conscious  of  that  sudden, 
painful  emotion  of  familiarity  which  had 
before  overwhelmed  him,  and  he  felt  that 
in  all  the  world  he  had  no  such  intimate 
knowledge  of  any  woman  as  he  had  of  Ziska. 
He  knew  her  !  Ah  ! — how  did  he  not  know 
her?  Every  curve  of  that  pliant  form  was 
to  him  the  living  memory  of  something  once 
possessed  and  loved,  and  he  pressed  his  hand 
heavily  across  his  eyes  for  a  moment  to  shut 
out  the  sight  of  all  the  exquisite  voluptuous 
grace  which  shook  his  self-control  and 
tempted  him  almost  beyond  man's  mortal 
endurance. 

"Are  you  not  well,  Monsieur  Gervase?" 
said  Dr.  Dean,  observing  him  closely,  and 
handing  back  the  lighted  taper  to  the  Egyp- 
tian servant  who  waited  to  receive  it.  "  The 
portraits  on  this  old  carving  have  perhaps 
affected  you  unpleasantly?  Yet  there  is 
really  nothing  of  importance  in  such  a  coin- 
cidence." 

"  Nothing    of    importance,   perhaps,   but 


ZISKA  201 

surely  something  of  singularity,"  interrupted 
Denzil  Murray,  "  especially  in  the  resem- 
blance between  the  Princess  and  the  dancing- 
girl  of  that  ancient  period, — their  features 
are  positively  line  for  line  alike." 

The  Princess  laughed. 

"Yes,  is  it  not  curious?"  she  said,  and, 
taking  the  taper  from  her  servant,  she  sprang 
lightly  on  one  of  the  benches  near  the  wall 
and  leaned  her  beautiful  head  on  the  en- 
tablature, so  that  her  profile  stood  out  close 
against  that  of  the  once  reputed  Ziska-Char- 
mazel.  "  We  are,  as  Dr.  Dean  says,  twins !  " 

Several  of  the  guests  had  now  gathered 
together  in  that  particular  part  of  the  room, 
and  they  all  looked  up  at  her  as  she  stood 
thus,  in  silent  and  somewhat  superstitious 
wonderment.  The  fascinating  dancer,  famed 
in  ages  past,  and  the  lovely,  living  c/iarme- 
resse  of  the  present  were  the  image  of  each 
other,  and  so  extraordinary  was  the  resem- 
blance that  it  was  almost  what  some  folks 
would  term  "  uncanny."  The  fair  Ziska  did 
not,  however,  give  her  acquaintances  time 
for  much  meditation  or  surprise  concerning 
the  matter,  for  she  soon  came  down  from 
her  elevation  near  the  sculptured  frieze 
and,  extinguishing  the  taper  she  held,  she 
said  lightly : 


2O2  ZISKA 

"  As  Dr.  Dean  has  remarked,  there  is 
really  nothing  of  importance  in  the  coinci- 
dence. Ages  ago,  in  the  time  of  Araxes, 
roses  must  have  bloomed  ;  and  who  shall 
say  that  a  rose  in  to-day's  garden  is  not  pre- 
cisely the  same  in  size,  scent  and  color  as  one 
that  Araxes  himself  plucked  at  his  palace 
gates?  Thus,  if  flowers  are  born  alike  in 
different  ages,  why  not  women  and  men  ?  " 

"  Very  well  argued,  Princess,"  said  the 
Doctor.  "  I  quite  agree  with  you.  Nature 
is  bound  to  repeat  some  of  her  choicest 
patterns,  lest  she  should  forget  the  art  of 
making  them." 

There  was  now  a  general  movement  among 
the  guests,  that  particular  kind  of  move- 
ment which  means  irritability  and  restless- 
ness, and  implies  that  either  supper  must 
be  immediately  served,  or  else  some  novel 
entertainment  be  brought  in  to  distract  at- 
tention and  prevent  tedium.  The  Princess, 
turning  to  Gervase,  said  smilingly : 

''Apropos  of  the  dancing-girl  of  Araxes 
and  the  art  of  dancing  generally,  I  am  going 
to  entertain  the  company  presently  by 
letting  them  see  a  real  old  dance  of  Thebes. 
If  you  will  excuse  me  a  moment  I  must  just 
prepare  them  and  get  the  rooms  slightly 
cleared.  I  will  return  to  you  presently." 


ZISKA  203 

She  glided  away  with  her  usual  noiseless 
grace,  and  within  a  few  minutes  of  her  de- 
parture the  gay  crowds  began  to  fall  back 
against  the  walls  and  disperse  themselves 
generally  in  expectant  groups  here  and  there, 
the  Egyptian  servants  moving  in  and  out 
and  evidently  informing  them  of  the  enter- 
tainment in  prospect. 

"  Well,  I  shall  stay  here,"  said  Dr.  Dean, 
"  underneath  this  remarkable  stone  carving 
of  your  warrior-prototype,  Monsieur  Gervase. 
You  seem  very  much  abstracted.  I  asked 
you  before  if  you  were  not  well ;  but  you 
never  answered  me." 

"  I  am  perfectly  well,"  replied  Gervase, 
with  some  irritation.  "  The  heat  is  rather 
trying,  that  is  all.  But  I  attach  no  impor- 
tance to  that  stone  frieze.  One  can  easily 
imagine  likenesses  where  there  are  really 
none." 

"  True  !  "  and  the  Doctor  smiled  to  him- 
self, and  said  no  more.  Just  then  a  wild 
burst  of  music  sounded  suddenly  through 
the  apartment,  and  he  turned  round  in  lively 
anticipation  to  watch  the  proceedings. 

The  middle  of  the  room  was  now  quite 
glear,  and  presently,  moving  with  the  silent 
grace  of  swans  on  still  water,  came  four  girls 
closely  veiled,  carrying  quaintly-shaped  harps 


204  ZISKA 

'  and  lutes.  A  Nubian  servant  followed  them, 
and  spread  a  gold-embroidered  carpet  upon 
the  ground,  whereon  they  all  sat  down  and 
began  to  thrum  the  strings  of  their  instru- 
ments in  a  muffled,  dreamy  manner,  playing 
a  music  which  had  nothing  of  melody  in  it, 
and  which  yet  vaguely  suggested  a  passion- 
ate tune.  This  thrumming  went  on  for  some 
time  when  all  at  once  from  a  side  entrance 
in  the  hall  a  bright,  apparently  winged  thing 
bounded  from  the  outer  darkness  into  the 
centre  of  the  hall, — a  woman  clad  in  glisten- 
ing cloth  of  gold  and  veiled  entirely  in  misty 
folds  of  white,  who,  raising  her  arms  gleam- 
ing with  jewelled  bangles  high  above  her 
head,  remained  poised  on  tiptoe  for  a 
moment,  as  though  about  to  fly.  Her  bare 
feet,  white  and  dimpled,  sparkled  with  gems 
and  glittering  anklets ;  her  skirts  as  she 
moved  showed  fluttering  flecks  of  white  and 
pink  like  the  leaves  of  May-blossoms  shaken 
by  a  summer  breeze ;  the  music  grew  louder 
and  wilder,  and  a  brazen  clang  from  unseen 
cymbals  prepared  her  as  it  seemed  for  flight. 
She  began  her  dance  slowly,  gliding  myste- 
riously from  side  to  side,  anon  turning  sud- 
denly with  her  head  lifted,  as  though  listening 
for  some  word  of  love  which  should  recall  her 
or  command  ;  then,  bending  down  again,  she 


ZISKA  205 

semed  to  float  lazily  like  a  creature  that  was 
dancing  in  a  dream  without  conscious  knowl- 
edge of  her  actions.  The  brazen  cymbals 
clashed  again,  and  then,  with  a  wild,  beauti- 
ful movement,  like  that  of  a  hunted  stag 
leaping  the  brow  of  a  hill,  the  dancer  sprang 
forward,  turned,  pirouetted  and  tossed  her- 
self round  and  round  giddily  with  a  marvel- 
lous and  exquisite  celerity,  as  if  she  were 
nothing  but  a  bright  circle  of  gold  spinning 
in  clear  ether.  Spontaneous  applause  broke 
forth  from  every  part  of  the  hall ;  the  guests 
crowded  forward,  staring  and  almost  breath- 
less with  amazement.  Dr.  Dean  got  up  in 
a  state  of  the  greatest  excitement,  clapping 
his  hands  involuntarily  ;  and  Gervase,  every 
nerve  in  his  body  quivering,  advanced  one 
or  two  steps,  feeling  that  he  must  stop  this 
bright,  wild,  wanton  thing  in  her  incessant 
whirling,  or  else  die  in  the  hunger  of  love 
which  consumed  his  soul.  Denzil  Murray 
glanced  at  him,  and,  after  a  pause,  left  his 
side  and  disappeared.  Suddenly,  with  a 
quick  movement,  the  dancer  loosened  her 
golden  dress  and  misty  veil,  and  tossing 
them  aside  like  falling  leaves,  she  stood  con- 
fessed— a  marvellous,  glowing  vision  in  sil- 
very white — no  other  than  the  Princess 
Ziska! 


206  ZISKA 

Shouts  echoed  from  every  part  of  the 
hall: 

"  Ziska  !     Ziska !  " 

And  at  the  name  Lady  Chetwynd  Lyle 
rose  in  all  her  majesty  from  the  seat  she  had 
occupied  till  then,  and  in  tones  of  virtuous 
indignation  said  to  Lady  Fulkeward  : 

"  I  told  you  the  Princess  was  not  a  prop- 
'er  person  !  Now  it  is  proved  I  am  right ! 
To  think  I  should  have  brought  Dolly  and 
Muriel  here !  I  shall  really  never  forgive 
myself !  Come,  Sir  Chetwynd, — let  us  leave 
this  place  instantly  !  " 

And  stout  Sir  Chetwynd,  gloating  on  the 
exquisite  beauty  of  the  Princess  Ziska's 
form  as  she  still  danced  on  in  her  snowy 
white  attire,  her  lovely  face  alight  with  mirth 
at  the  surprise  she  had  made  for  her  guests, 
tried  his  best  to  look  sanctimonious  and 
signally  failed  in  the  attempt  as  he  an- 
swered : 

"  Certainly  !  Certainly,  my  dear  !  Most 
improper  .  .  .  most  astonishing !  " 

While  Lady  Fulkeward  answered  inno- 
cently : 

"  Is  it  ?  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  Oh, 
dear !  I  suppose  it  is  improper, — it  must 
be,  you  know ;  but  it  is  most  delightful  and 
original ! " 


ZISKA  207 

And  while  the  Chetwynd  Lyles  thus 
moved  to  depart  in  a  cloud  of  outraged  pro- 
priety, followed  by  others  who  likewise 
thought  it  well  to  pretend  to  be  shocked  at 
the  proceeding,  Gervase,  dizzy,  breathless, 
and  torn  by  such  conflicting  passions  as  he 
could  never  express,  was  in  a  condition 
more  mad  than  sane. 

"  My  God  !  "  he  muttered  under  his  breath. 
"  This — this  is  love !  This  is  the  beginning 
and  end  of  life !  To  possess  her, — to  hold 
her  in  my  arms — heart  to  heart,  lips  to  lips 
.  .  .  this  is  what  all  the  eternal  forces 
of  Nature  meant  when  they  made  me 
man  !  " 

And  he  watched  with  strained,  passionate 
eyes  the  movements  of  the  Princess  Ziska 
as  they  grew  slower  and  slower,  till  she 
seemed  floating  merely  like  a  foam-bell  on  a 
wave,  and  then  .  .  .  from  some  unseen 
quarter  of  the  room  a  rich  throbbing  voice 
began  to  sing  : — 

"  Oh,  for  the  passionless  peace  of  the  I/otus-Lily  ! 
It  floats  in  a  waking  dream  on  the  waters  chilly, 

With  its  leaves  unfurled 

To  the  wondering  world, 

Knowing  naught  of  the  sorrow  and  restless  pain 
That  burns  and  tortures  the  human  brain  ; 
Oh,  for  the  passionless  peace  of  the  Lotus-L,ily  ! 


2O8  ZISKA 

Oh,  for  the  pure  cold  heart  of  the  Lotus-Lily  ! 
Bared  to  the  moon  on  the  waters  dark  and  chilly. 

A  star  above 

Is  its  only  love, 

And  one  brief  sigh  of  its  scented  breath 
Is  all  it  will  ever  know  of  Death  ; 
Oh,  for  the  pure  cold  heart  of  the  Lotus-Lily  ! ' 

As  the  sound  died  away  in  a  sigh  rather 
than  a  note,  the  Princess  Ziska's  dancing 
ceased  altogether.  A  shout  of  applause 
broke  from  all  assembled,  and  in  the  midst 
of  it  there  was  a  sudden  commotion  and  ex- 
citement, and  Dr.  Dean  was  seen  bending 
over  a  man's  prostrate  figure.  The  great 
French  painter,  Armand  Gervase,  had  sud- 
denly fainted. 


ZISKA  209 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  CURIOUS  yet  very  general  feeling  of 
superstitious  uneasiness  and  discomfort  per- 
vaded the  Gezireh  Palace  Hotel  the  day 
after  the  Princess  Ziska's  reception.  Some- 
thing had  happened,  and  no  one  knew  what. 
The  proprieties  had  been  outraged,  but  no 
one  knew  why.  It  was  certainly  not  the 
custom  for  a  hostess,  and  a  Princess  to  boot, 
to  dance  like  a  wild  bacchante  before  a  crowd 
of  her  invited  guests,  yet,  as  Dr.  Dean  blandly 
observed, — 

"  Where  was  the  harm  ?  In  London, 
ladies  of  good  birth  and  breeding  went  in  for 
*  skirt-dancing,'  and  no  one  presumed  to 
breathe  a  word  against  their  reputations; 
why  in  Cairo  should  not  a  lady  go  in  for 
a  Theban  dance  without  being  considered 
improper  ?  " 

Why,  indeed  ?  There  seemed  no  ad- 
equate reason  for  being  either  surprised  or 
offended ;  yet  surprised  and  offended  most 
people  were,  and  scandal  ran  rife,  and  rumor 
14 


210  ZISKA 

wagged  all  its  poisonous  tongues  to  spread 
evil  reports  against  the  Princess  Ziska's  name 
and  fame,  till  Denzil  Murray,  maddened  and 
furious,  rushed  up  to  his  sister  in  her  room 
and  swore  that  he  would  marry  the  Princess 
if  he  died  for  it. 

"  They  are  blackguarding  her  downstairs, 
the  beasts !  "  he  said  hotly.  "  They  are  call- 
ing her  by  every  bad  name  under  the  sun  ! 
But  I  will  make  everything  straight  for  her ; 
she  shall  be  my  wife !  If  she  will  have  me, 
I  will  marry  her  to-morrow  !  " 

Helen  looked  at  him  in  speechless  despair. 

"  Oh,  Denzil !  "  she  faltered,  and  then  could 
say  no  more,  for  the  tears  that  blinded  her 
eyes. 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course,  I  know  what  you 
mean ! "  he  continued,  marching  up  and 
down  the  room  excitedly.  "You  are  like 
all  the  others  ;  you  think  her  an  adventuress. 
I  think  her  the  purest,  the  noblest  of  women  ! 
There  is  where  we  differ.  I  spoke  to  her 
last  night, — I  told  her  I  loved  her." 

"  You  did  ?  "  and  Helen  gazed  at  him  with 
wet,  tragic  eyes, — "  And  she  .  .  ." 

"  She  bade  me  be  silent.  She  told  me  I 
must  not  speak — not  yet.  She  said  she 
would  give  me  her  answer  when  we  were  all 
together  at  the  Mena  House  Hotel." 


ZISKA  211 

"You  intend  to  be  one  of  the  party  there 
then  ?  "  said  Helen  faintly. 

"  Of  course  I  do.     And  so  do  you,  I  hope." 

"  No,  Denzil,  I  cannot.  Don't  ask  me.  I 
will  stay  here  with  Lady  Fulkeward.  She  is 
not  going,  nor  are  the  Chetwynd  Lyles.  I 
shall  be  quite  safe  with  them.  I  would 
rather  not  go  to  the  Mena  House, — I  could 
not  bear  it  .  .  ." 

Her  voice  gave  way  entirely,  and  she  broke 
out  crying  bitterly. 

Denzil  stood  still  and  regarded  her  with  a 
kind  of  sullen  shame  and  remorse. 

"  What  a  very  sympathetic  sister  you  are  ! " 
he  observed.  "When  you  see  me  madly 
in  love  with  a  woman — a  perfectly  beautiful, 
adorable  woman — you  put  yourself  at  once 
in  the  way  and  make  out  that  my  marriage 
with  her  will  be  a  misery  to  you.  You  surely 
do  not  expect  me  to  remain  single  all  my 
life,  do  you  ?" 

"  No,  Denzil,"  sobbed  Helen,  "  but  I  had 
hoped  to  see  you  marry  some  sweet  girl  of 
our  own  land  who  would  be  your  dear  and 
true  companion, — who  would  be  a  sister  to 
me, — who  .  .  .  there  !  don't  mind  me  !  Be 
happy  in  your  own  way,  my  dear  brother. 
I  have  no  business  to  interfere.  I  can  only 
say  that  if  the  Princess  Ziska  consents  to 


212  ZISKA 

marry  you,  I  will  do  my  best  to  like  her,  for 
your  sake." 

"Well,  that's  something,  at  any  rate," 
said  Denzil,  with  an  air  of  relief.  "  Don't 
cry,  Helen,  it  bothers  me.  As  for  the '  sweet 
girl '  you  have  got  in  view  for  me,  you  will 
permit  me  to  say  that  '  sweet  girls '  are 
becoming  uncommonly  scarce  in  Britain. 
What  with  bicycle  riders  and  great  rough 
tomboys  generally,  with  large  hands  and 
larger  feet,  I  confess  I  do  not  care  about 
them.  I  like  a  womanly  woman, — a  grace- 
ful woman, — a  fascinating,  bewitching 
woman,  and  the  Princess  is  all  that  and  more. 
Surely  you  consider  her  beautiful  ?  " 

"  Very  beautiful  indeed !  "  sighed  poor 
Helen.—"  Too  beautiful !  " 

"  Nonsense  !  As  if  any  woman  can  be  too 
beautiful !  I  am  sorry  you  won't  come  to 
the  Mena  House.  It  would  be  a  change 
for  you, — and  Gervase  is  going." 

"Is  he  better  to-day?"  inquired  Helen 
timidly. 

"  Oh,  I  believe  he  is  quite  well  again.  It 
was  the  heat  or  the  scent  of  the  flowers,  or 
something  of  that  sort,  that  made  him  faint 
last  night.  He  is  not  acclimatized  yet,  you 
know.  And  he  said  that  the  Princess's  danc- 
ing made  him  giddy." 


ZISKA  213 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  that,"  murmured 
Helen. 

"It  was  marvellous — glorious!"  said 
Denzil  dreamily.  "  It  was  like  nothing  else 
ever  seen  or  imagined !  " 

"  If  she  were  your  wife,  would  you  care 
for  her  to  dance  before  people  ?  "  inquired 
Helen  tremblingly. 

Denzil  turned  upon  her  in  haughty  wrath. 

"  How  like  a  woman  that  is  !  To  insinuate 
a  nasty  suggestion — to  imply  an  innuendo 
without  uttering  it !  If  she  were  my  wife, 
she  would  do  nothing  unbecoming  that  posi- 
tion." 

"  Then  you  did  think  it  a  little  unbecom- 
ing?" persisted  Helen. 

"No,  I  did  not!"  said  Denzil  sharply. 
"  An  independent  woman  may  do  many 
things  that  a  married  woman  may  not. 
Marriage  brings  its  own  duties  and  respon- 
sibilities,— time  enough  to  consider  them 
when  they  come." 

He  turned  angrily  on  his  heel  and  left  her, 
and  Helen,  burying  her  fair  face  in  her  hands, 
wept  long  and  unrestrainedly.  This  "  strange 
woman  out  of  Egypt "  had  turned  her 
brother's  heart  against  her,  and  stolen  away 
her  almost  declared  lover.  It  was  no  wonder 
that  her  tears  fell  fast,  wrung  from  her  with 


214  ZISKA 

the  pain  of  this  double  wound ;  for  Helen, 
though  quiet  and  undemonstrative,  had  fine 
feelings  and  unsounded  depths  of  passion  in 
her  nature,  and  the  fatal  attraction  she  felt 
for  Armand  Gervase  was  more  powerful 
than  she  had  herself  known.  Now  that  he 
had  openly  confessed  his  infatuation  for  an- 
other woman,  it  seemed  as  though  the  earth 
had  opened  at  her  feet  and  shown  her  noth- 
ing but  a  grave  in  which  to  fall.  Life — 
empty  and  blank  and  bare  of  love  and  tender- 
ness, stretched  before  her  imagination  ;  she 
saw  herself  toiling  along  the  monotonously 
even  road  of  duty  till  her  hair  became  gray 
and  her  face  thin  and  wan  and  wrinkled,  and 
never  a  gleam  again  of  the  beautiful,  glow- 
ing, romantic  passion  that  for  a  short  time 
had  made  her  days  splendid  with  the  dreams 
that  are  sweeter  than  all  realities. 

Poor  Helen  !  It  was  little  marvel  that  she 
wept  as  all  women  weep  when  their  hearts 
are  broken.  It  is  so  easy  to  break  a  heart ; 
sometimes  a  mere  word  will  do  it.  But  the 
vanishing  of  the  winged  Love-god  from  the 
soul  is  even  more  than  heart-break, — it  is 
utter  and  irretrievable  loss, — complete  and 
dominating  chaos  out  of  which  no  good 
thing  can  ever  be  designed  or  created.  In 
our  days  we  do  our  best  to  supply  the  place 


ZISKA  215 

of  a  reluctant  Eros  by  the  gilded,  grinning 
Mammon-figure  which  we  try  to  consider  as 
superior  to  any  silver-pinioned  god  that  ever 
descended  in  his  rainbow  car  to  sing  heav- 
enly songs  to  mortals  ;  but  it  is  an  unlovely 
substitute, — a  hideous  idol  at  best ;  and  grasp 
its  golden  knees  and  worship  it  as  we  will, 
it  gives  us  little  or  no  comfort  in  the  hours 
of  strong  temptation  or  trouble.  We  have 
made  a  mistake — we,  in  our  progressive  gen- 
eration,— we  have  banished  the  old  sweet- 
nesses, triumphs  and  delights  of  life,  and  we 
have  got  in  exchange  steam  and  electricity. 
But  the  heart  of  the  age  clamors  on  unsat- 
isfied,— none  of  our"  new  "  ideas  content  it 
— nothing  pacifies  its  restless  yearning;  it 
feels — this  great  heart  of  human  life — that 
it  is  losing  more  than  it  gains,  hence  the  in- 
cessant, restless  aching  of  the  time,  and  the 
perpetual  longing  for  something  Science  can- 
not teach, — something  vague,  beautiful,  in- 
definable, yet  satisfying  to  every  pulse  of 
the  soul  ;  and  the  nearest  emotion  to  that 
divine  solace  is  what  we  in  our  higher  and 
better  moments  recognize  as  Love.  And 
Love  was  lost  to  Helen  Murray  ;  the  choice 
pearl  had  fallen  in  the  vast  gulf  of  Might- 
have-been,  and  not  all  the  forces  of  Nature 
would  ever  restore  to  her  that  priceless  gem. 


2l6  ZISKA 

And  while  she  wept  to  herself  in  solitude, 
and  her  brother  Denzil  wandered  about  in 
the  gardens  of  the  hotel,  encouraging  within 
himself  hopes  of  winning  the  bewitching 
Ziska  for  a  wife,  Armand  Gervase,  shut  up 
in  his  room  under  plea  of  slight  indisposition, 
reviewed  the  emotions  of  the  past  night  and 
tired  to  analyze  them.  Some  men  are  born 
self-analysts,  and  are  able  to  dissect  their 
feelings  by  some  peculiar  form  of  mental 
surgery  which  finally  leads  them  to  cut  out 
tenderness  as  though  it  were  a  cancer,  love 
as  a  disease,  and  romantic  aspirations  as 
mere  uncomfortable  growths  injurious  to 
self-interest,  but  Gervase  was  not  one  of 
these.  Outwardly  he  assumed  more  or  less 
the  composed  and  careless  demeanor  of  the 
modern  French  cynic,  but  inwardly  the  man 
was  a  raging  fire  of  fierce  passions  which  were 
sometimes  too  strong  to  be  held  in  check. 
At  the  present  moment  he  was  prepared  to 
sacrifice  everything,  even  life  itself,  to  obtain 
possession  of  the  woman  he  coveted,  and  he 
made  no  attempt  whatever  to  resist  the  tem- 
pest of  desire  that  was  urging  him  on  with 
an  invincible  force  in  a  direction  which,  for 
some  strange  and  altogether  inexplicable 
reason,  he  dreaded.  Yes,  there  was  a  dim 
sense  of  terror  lurking  behind  all  the  wild 


ZISKA.  217 

passion  that  filled  his  soul — a  haunting,  vague 
idea  that  this  sudden  love,  with  its  glowing 
ardor  and  intoxicating  delirium,  was  like  the 
brilliant  red  sunset  which  frequently  prog- 
nosticates a  night  of  storm,  ruin  and  death. 
Yet,  though  he  felt  this  presentiment  like  a 
creeping  shudder  of  cold  through  his  blood, 
it  did  not  hold  him  back,  or  for  a  moment 
impress  him  with  the  idea  that  it  might  be 
better  to  yield  no  further  to  this  desperate 
love-madness  which  enthralled  him. 

Once  only,  he  thought,  "  What  if  I  left 
Egypt  now — at  once — and  saw  her  no 
more?"  And  then  he  laughed  scornfully 
at  the  impossibility  proposed.  "  Leave 
Egypt !  "  he  muttered,  "  I  might  as  well  leave 
the  world  altogether  !  She  would  draw  me 
back  with  those  sweet  wild  eyes  of  hers, — she 
would  drag  me  from  the  uttermost  parts  of 
the  earth  to  fall  at  her  feet  in  a  very  agony  of 
love.  My  God !  She  must  have  her  way  and 
do  with  me  as  she  will,  for  I  feel  that  she 
holds  my  life  in  her  hands  !  " 

As  he  spoke  these  last  words  half  aloud, 
he  sprang  up  from  the  chair  in  which  he  had 
been  reclining,  and  stood  for  a  moment  lost 
in  frowning  meditation. 

"  My  life  in  her  hands  !  "  he  repeated  mus- 
ingly. "  Yes,  it  has  come  to  that !  My  life  !  " 


218  ZISKA 

A  great  sigh  broke  from  him.  "  My  life— 
my  art — my  work — my  name  !  In  all  these 
things  I  have  taken  pride,  and  she — she  can 
trample  them  under  her  feet  and  make  of 
me  nothing  more  than  man  clamoring  for 
woman's  love  !  What  a  wild  world  it  is  ! 
What  a  strange  Force  must  that  be  which 
created  it! — the  Force  that  some  men  call 
God  and  others  Devil!  A  strange,  blind, 
brute  Force  ! — for  it  makes  us  aspire  only  to 
fall ;  it  gives  a  man  dreams  of  ambition  and 
splendid  attainment  only  to  fling  him  like  a 
mad  fool  on  a  woman's  breast,  and  bid  him 
find  there,  and  there  only,  the  bewildering 
sweetness  which  makes  everything  else  in 
existence  poor  and  tame  in  comparison. 
Well,  well— my  life  !  What  is  it  ?  A  mere 
grain  of  sand  dropped  in  the  sea ;  let  her  do 
with  it  as  she  will.  God!  How  I  felt  her 
power  upon  me  last  night, — last  night  when 
her  lithe  figure  swaying  in  the  dance  remind- 
ed me  .  .  ." 

He  paused,  startled  at  the  turn  his  own 
thoughts  were  taking. 

"  Of  what  ?  Let  me  try  and  express  to 
myself  now  what  I  could  not  express  or  re- 
alize last  night.  She — Ziska — I  thought 
was  mine, — mine  from  her  dimpled  feet  to 
her  dusky  hair, — and  she  danced  for  me 


ZISKA  2IQ 

alone.  It  seemed  that  the  jewels  she  wore 
upon  her  rounded  arms  and  slender  ankles 
were  all  love-gifts  from  me — every  circlet  of 
gold,  every  starry,  shining  gem  on  her  fair 
body  was  the  symbol  of  some  secret  joy 
between  us — joy  so  keen  as  to  be  almost 
pain.  And  as  she  danced,  I  thought  I  was 
in  a  vast  hall  of  a  majestic  palace,  where 
open  colonnades  revealed  wide  glimpses  of 
a  burning  desert  and  deep  blue  sky.  I  heard 
the  distant  sound  of  rolling  drums,  and  not 
far  off  I  saw  the  Sphinx — a  creature  not  old 
but  new — resting  upon  a  giant  pedestal  and 
guarding  the  sculptured  gate  of  some  great 
temple  which  contained,  as  I  then  thought, 
all  the  treasures  of  the  world.  I  could  paint 
the  picture  as  I  saw  it  then  !  It  was  a  fleet- 
ing impression  merely,  conjured  up  by  the 
dance  that  dizzied  my  brain.  And  that  song 
of  the  Lotus-lily  !  That  was  strange — very 
strange,  for  I  thought  I  had  heard  it  often 
before, — and  I  saw  myself  in  the  vague 
dream,  a  prince,  a  warrior,  almost  a  king, 
and  far  more  famous  in  the  world  than  I  am 
now !  " 

He  looked  about  him  uneasily,  with  a 
kind  of  nervous  terror,  and  his  eyes  rested 
for  a  moment  on  the  easel  where  the  pic- 
ture he  had  painted  of  the  Princess  was 


220  ZISKA 

placed,  covered  from  view  by  a  fold  of  dark 
cloth. 

"  Bah  !  "  he  exclaimed  at  last  with  a  forced 
laugh,  "  What  stupid  fancies  fool  me  !  It  is 
all  the  vague  talk  of  that  would-be  learned 
ass,  Dr.  Dean,  with  his  ridiculous  theories 
about  life  and  death.  I  shall  be  imagining 
I  am  his  fad,  Araxes,  next!  This  sort  of 
thing  will  never  do.  Let  me  reason  out  the 
matter  calmly.  I  love  this  woman, — love  her 
to  absolute  madness.  It  is  not  the  best  kind 
of  love,  maybe,  but  it  is  the  only  kind  I  am 
capable  of,  and  such  as  it  is,  she  possesses  it 
all.  What  then?  Well!  We  go  to-morrow 
to  the  Pyramids,  and  we  join  her  at  the 
Mena  House,  I  and  the  poor  boy  Denzil. 
He  will  try  his  chance — I  mine.  If  he  wins, 
I  shall  kill  him  as  surely  as  I  myself  live, — 
yes,  even  though  he  is  Helen's  brother.  No 
man  shall  snatch  Ziska  from  my  arms  and 
continue  to  breathe.  If  I  win,  it  is  possible 
he  may  kill  me,  and  I  shall  respect  him  for 
trying  to  do  it.  But  I  shall  satisfy  my  love 
first ;  Ziska  will  be  mine — mine  in  every 
sense  of  possession, — before  I  die.  Yes,  that 
must  be — that  will  have  to  be.  And  after- 
wards,— why  let  Denzil  do  his  worst ;  a  man 
can  but  die  once." 

He  drew  the  cloth  off  his  easel  and  stared 


ZISKA  221 

at  the  strange  picture  of  the  Princess,  which 
seemed  almost  sentient  in  its  half-watchful, 
half-mocking  expression. 

"  There  is  a  dead  face  and  a  living  one  on 
this  canvas,"  he  said,  "  and  the  dead  face 
seems  to  enthral  me  as  much  as  the  living. 
Both  have  the  same  cruel  smile, — both  the 
same  compelling  magnetism  of  eye.  Only 
it  is  a  singular  thing  that  I  should  know  the 
dead  face  even  more  intimately  than  the 
living — that  the  tortured  look  upon  it  should 
be  a  kind  of  haunting  memory — horrible — 
ghastly.  .  .  ." 

He  flung  the  cloth  over  the  easel  again 
impatiently,  and  tried  to  laugh  at  his  own 
morbid  imagination. 

"  I  know  who  is  responsible  for  all  this 
nonsense,"  he  said.  "  It  is  that  ridiculous 
little  half-mad  faddist,  Dr.  Dean.  He  is 
going  to  the  Mena  House,  too.  Well ! — he 
will  be  the  witness  of  a  comedy  or  a  tragedy 
there, — and  Heaven  alone  knows  which  it 
will  be ! " 

And  to  distract  his  thoughts  from  dwell- 
ing  any  longer  on  the  haunting  ideas  that 
perplexed  him,  he  took  up  one  of  the  latest 
and  frothiest  of  French  novels  and  began  to 
read.  Some  one  in  a  room  not  far  off  was 
singing  a  French  song, — a  man  with  a  rich 


222  ZISKA 

baritone  voice, — and  unconsciously  to  him- 
self Gervase  caught  the  words  as  they  rang 
out  full  and  clearly  on  the  quiet,  heated 
air — 

O  toi  que  j'ai  tant  aim£e 
Songes-tu  que  je  t'aime  encor  ? 

Et  dans  ton  ame  alarm£e, 

Ne  sens-tu  pas  quelque  remurd  ? 

Viens  avec  moi,  si  tu  m'aimes, 

Habiter  dans  ces  deserts  ; 

Nous  y  vivrons  pour  nous  memes, 

Oublids  de  tout  1'univers  ! 

And  something  like  a  mist  of  tears  cloud- 
ed his  aching  eyes  as  he  repeated,  half  me- 
chanically and  dreamily — 

O  toi  que  j'ai  tant  aime'e, 
Songes-tu  que  je  t'aime  encor  ? 


ZISKA  223 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FOR  the  benefit  of  those  among  the  un- 
travelled  English  who  have  not  yet  broken 
a  soda-water  bottle  against  the  Sphinx,  or 
eaten  sandwiches  to  the  immortal  memory 
of  Cheops,  it  may  be  as  well  to  explain  that 
the  Mena  House  Hotel  is  a  long,  rambling, 
roomy  building,  situated  within  five  minutes' 
walk  of  the  Great  Pyramid,  and  happily 
possessed  of  a  golfing-ground  and  a  marble 
swimming-bath.  That  ubiquitous  nuisance, 
the  "  amateur  photographer,"  can  there  have 
his  "dark  room"  for  the  development  of 
his  more  or  less  imperfect  "  plates  "  ;  and 
there  is  a  resident  chaplain  for  the  piously 
inclined.  With  a  chaplain  and  a  "  dark 
room,"  what  more  can  the  aspiring  soul  of 
the  modern  tourist  desire?  Some  of  the 
rooms  at  the  Mena  House  are  small  and 
stuffy  ;  others  large  and  furnished  with  suffi- 
cient elegance :  and  the  Princess  Ziska  had 
secured  a  "  suite "  of  the  best  that  could 
be  obtained,  and  was  soon  installed  there 


224  ZISKA 

with  befitting  luxury.  She  left  Cairo  quite 
suddenly,  and  without  any  visible  prepara- 
tion, the  morning  after  the  reception  in 
which  she  had  astonished  her  guests  by  her 
dancing:  and  she  did  not  call  at  the  Gezireh 
Palace  Hotel  to  say  good-bye  to  any  of  her 
acquaintances  there.  She  was  .perhaps  con- 
scious that  her  somewhat  "  free  "  behavior 
had  startled  several  worthy  and  sanctimoni- 
ous persons ;  and  possibly  she  also  thought 
that  to  take  rooms  in  an  hotel  which  was 
only  an  hour's  distance  from  Cairo,  could 
scarcely  be  considered  as  absenting  herself 
from  Cairene  society.  She  was  followed  to 
her  desert  retreat  by  Dr.  Dean,  Armand 
Gervase,  and  Denzil  Murray,  who  drove  to 
the  Mena  House  together  in  one  carriage, 
and  were  more  or  less  all  three  in  a  sober 
and  meditative  frame  of  mind.  They  ar- 
rived in  time  to  see  the  Sphinx  bathed  in  the 
fierce  glow  of  an  ardent  sunset,  which  turned 
the  golden  sands  to  crimson,  and  made  the 
granite  monster  look  like  a  cruel  idol  surround- 
ed by  a  sea  of  blood.  The  brilliant  red  of 
the  heavens  flamed  in  its  stony  eyes,  and  gave 
them  a  sentient  look  as  of  contemplated 
murder, — and  the  same  radiance  fitfully 
playing  on  the  half-scornful,  half-sensual  lips 
caused  them  to  smile  with  a  seeming  volup- 


ZISKA  225 

tuous  mockery.  Dr.  Dean  stood  transfixed 
for  a  while  at  the  strange  splendor  of  the 
spectacle,  and  turning  to  his  two  silent  com- 
panions, said  suddenly : 

"  There  is  something,  after  all,  in  the  un- 
guessed  riddle  of  the  Sphinx.  It  is  not  a 
fable  ;  it  is  a  truth.  There  is  a  problem  to 
be  solved,  and  that  monstrous  creature  knows 
it !  The  woman's  face,  the  brute's  body — 
Spiritualism  and  Materialism  in  one  !  It  is 
life,  and  more  than  life  ;  it  is  love.  Forever 
and  forever  it  teaches  the  same  wonderful, 
terrible  mystery.  We  aspire,  yet  we  fall ; 
love  would  fain  give  us  wings  wherewith  to 
fly  ;  but  the  wretched  body  lies  prone — 
supine  ;  it  cannot  soar  to  the  Light  Eter- 
nal." 

"What  is  the  Light  Eternal?"  queried 
Gervase,  moodily.  "  How  do  we  know  it 
exists?  We  cannot  prove  it.  This  world 
is  what  we  see ;  we  have  to  do  with  it  and 
ourselves.  Soul  without  body  could  not 
exist.  .  .  ." 

"  Could  it  not  ?  "  said  the  Doctor.  "  How, 
then,  does  body  exist  without  soul  ?  " 

This  was  an  unexpected  but  fair  question, 
and  Gervase  found  himself  curiously  per- 
plexed by  it.  He  offered  no  reply,  neither 
did  Denzil,  and  they  all  three  slowly  entered 


226  ZISKA 

the  Mena  House  Hotel,  there  to  be  met  with 
deferential  salutations  by  the  urbane  and 
affable  landlord,  and  to  be  assured  that  they 
would  find  their  rooms  comfortable,  and  also 
that  "  Madame  la  Princesse  Ziska"  expected 
them  to  dine  with  her  that  evening.  At  this 
message,  Denzil  Murray  made  a  sign  to  Ger- 
vase  that  he  wished  to  speak  to  him  alone. 
Gervase  move  aside  with  him. 

"  Give  me  my  chance ! "  said  Denzil, 
fiercely. 

"  Take  it !  "  replied  Gervase  listlessly. 
"  Let  to-night  witness  the  interchange  of 
hearts  between  you  and  the  Princess ;  I  shall 
not  interfere." 

Denzil  stared  at  him  in  sullen  astonish- 
ment. 

"You  will  not  interfere?  Your  fancy  for 
her  is  at  an  end  ?  " 

Gervase  raised  his  dark,  glowing  eyes  and 
fixed  them  on  his  would-be  rival  with  a 
strange  and  sombre  expression. 

"  My '  fancy  '  for  her  ?  My  good  boy,  take 
care  what  you  say  !  Don't  rouse  me  too  far, 
for  I  am  dangerous  !  My  '  fancy  '  for  her  ! 
What  do  you  know  of  it?  You  are  hot- 
blooded  and  young ;  but  the  chill  of  the 
North  controls  you  in  a  fashion,  while  I — a 
man  in  the  prime  of  manhood — am  of  the 


ZISKA.  227 

South,  and  the  Southern  fire  brooks  no  con- 
trol. Have  you  seen  a  quiet  ocean,  smooth 
as  glass,  with  only  a  dimple  in  the  deep  blue 
to  show  that  perhaps,  should  occasion  serve, 
there  might  arise  a  little  wave  ?  And  have 
you  seen  the  wild  storm  breaking  from  a 
black  cloud  and  suddenly  making  that  quiet 
expanse  nothing  but  a  tourbillon  of  furious 
elements,  in  which  the  very  sea-gull's  cry  is 
whelmed  and  lost  in  the  thunder  of  the 
billows  ?  Such  a  storm  as  that  may  be  com- 
pared to  the  '  fancy '  you  suppose  I  feel  for 
the  woman  who  has  dragged  us  both  here  to 
die  at  her  feet — for  that,  I  believe,  is  what 
it  will  come  to.  Life  is  not  possible  under 
the  strain  of  emotion  with  which  we  two  are 
living  it.  .  .  ." 

He  broke  off,  then  resumed  in  quieter 
tones : 

"  I  say  to  you :  Use  your  opportunities 
while  you  have  them.  After  dinner  I  will 
leave  you  alone  with  the  Princess.  I  will  go 
out  for  a  stroll  with  Dr.  Dean.  Take  your 
chance,  Denzil,  for,  as  I  live,  it  is  your  last  ! 
It  will  be  my  turn  next !  Give  me  credit  for 
to-night's  patience  ! " 

He  turned  quickly  away,  and  in  a  moment 
was  gone.  Denzil  Murray  stood  still  for  a 
while,  thinking  deeply,  and  trying  to  review 


228  ZISKA 

the  position  in  which  he  found  himself.  He 
was  madly  in  love  with  a  woman  for  whom 
his  only  sister  had  the  most  violent  antipathy ; 
and  that  sister,  who  had  once  been  all  in  all 
to  him,  had  now  become  almost  less  than 
nothing  in  the  headstrong  passion  which  con- 
sumed him.  No  consideration  for  her  peace 
and  ultimate  happiness  affected  him,  though 
he  was  sensible  of  a  certain  remorseful  pity 
when  thinking  of  her  gentle  ways  and  docile 
yielding  to  his  often  impatient  and  impetuous 
humors ;  but,  after  all,  she  was  only  his 
'sister, — she  could  not  understand  his  present 
condition  of  mind.  Then  there  was  Gervase, 
whom  he  had  for  some  years  looked  upon  as 
one  of  his  most  admired  and  intimate  friends ; 
now  he  was  nothing  more  or  less  than  a  rival 
and  an  enemy,  notwithstanding  his  seeming 
courtesy  and  civil  self-restraint.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  he,  Denzil,  was  left  alone  to  face  his 
fate  :  to  dare  the  brilliant  seduction  of  the 
witching  eyes  of  Ziska, — to  win  her  or  to  lose 
her  forever !  And  consider  every  point  as 
he  would,  the  weary  conviction  was  borne  in 
upon  him  that,  whether  he  met  with  victory 
or  defeat,  the  result  would  bring  more  misery 
than  joy. 

When  he  entered  the  Princess's  salon  that 
evening,  he  found  Dr.  Dean   and  Gervase 


ZISKA  229 

already  there.  The  Princess  herself,  attired 
in  a  dinner-dress  made  with  quite  a  modern 
Parisian  elegance,  received  him  in  her  usual 
graceful  manner,  and  expressed  with  much 
sweetness  her  hope  that  the  air  of  the  desert 
would  prove  beneficial  to  him  after  the  great 
heats  that  had  prevailed  in  Cairo.  Nothing 
but  conventionalities  were  spoken.  Oh, 
those  conventionalities  !  What  a  world  of 
repressed  emotions  they  sometimes  cover! 
How  difficult  it  is  to  conceive  that  the  man 
and  woman  who  are  greeting  each  other 
with  calm  courtesy  in  a  crowded  drawing- 
room  are  the  very  two,  who,  standing  face  to 
face  in  the  moonlit  silence  of  some  lonely 
grove  of  trees  or  'haded  garden,  once  in  their 
lives  suddenly  realized  the  wild  passion  that 
neither  dared  confess  !  Tragedies  lie  deepest 
under  conventionalities — such  secrets  are 
buried  beneath  them  as  sometimes  might 
make  the  angels  weep!  They  are  safeguards, 
however,  against  stronger  emotions  ;  and  the 
strange  bathos  of  two  human  creatures  talk- 
ing politely  about  the  weather  when  the 
soul  of  each  is  clamoring  for  the  other,  has 
sometimes,  despite  its  absurdity,  saved  the 
situation. 

At   dinner,   the   Princess   Ziska   devoted 
herself  almost  entirely  to  the  entertainment 


230  ZISKA 

of  Dr.  Dean,  and  awakened  his  interest 
very  keenly  on  the  subject  of  the  Great 
Pyramid. 

"  It  has  never  really  been  explored,"  she 
said.  "  The  excavators  who  imagine  they 
have  fathomed  its  secrets  are  completely  in 
error.  The  upper  chambers  are  mere  deceits 
to  the  investigator ;  they  were  built  and 
planned  purposely  to  mislead,  and  the  secrets 
they  hide  have  never  even  been  guessed  at, 
much  less  discovered." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  "  inquired  the 
Doctor,  eagerly.  "  If  so,  would  you  not 
give  your  information.  .  .  ." 

"  I  neither  give  my  information  nor  sell 
it,"  interrupted  the  Princess,  smiling  coldly. 
"  I  am  only  a  woman — and  women  are  sup- 
posed to  know  nothing.  With  the  rest  of 
my  sex,  I  am  judged  illogical  and  imagina- 
tive; you  wise  men  would  call  my  knowl- 
edge of  history  deficient,  my  facts  not 
proven.  But,  if  you  like,  I  will  tell  you  the 
story  of  the  construction  of  the  Great 
Pyramid,  and  why  it  is  unlikely  that  anyone 
will  ever  find  the  treasures  that  are  buried 
within  it.  You  can  receive  the  narrative 
with  the  usual  incredulity  common  to  men  ; 
I  shall  not  attempt  to  argue  the  pros  and 
cons  with  you,  because  I  never  argue.  Treat 


ZISKA  231 

it  as  a  fairy-tale — no  woman  is  ever  supposed 
to  know  anything  for  a  fact, — she  is  too 
stupid.  Only  men  are  wise !  " 

Her  dark,  disdainful  glance  flashed  on 
Gervase  and  Denzil  ;  anon  she  smiled  be- 
witchingly,  and  added : 

"  Is  it  not  so?" 

"  Wisdom  is  nothing  compared  to  beauty," 
said  Gervase.  "  A  beautiful  woman  can  turn 
the  wisest  man  into  a  fool." 

The  Princess  laughed  lightly. 

"  Yes,  and  a  moment  afterwards  he  regrets 
his  folly,"  she  said.  "  He  clamors  for  the 
beautiful  woman  as  a  child  might  cry  for  the 
moon,  and  when  he  at  last  possesses  her,  he 
tires.  Satisfied  with  having  compassed  her 
degradation,  he  exclaims :  "  What  shall  I  do 
with  this  beauty,  which,  because  it  is  mine, 
now  palls  upon  me  ?  Let  me  kill  it  and  for- 
get it ;  I  am  aweary  of  love,  and  the  world  is 
full  of  women  ! '  That  is  the  way  of  your 
sex,  Monsieur  Gervase ;  it  is  a  brutal  way, 
but  it  is  the  one  most  of  you  follow." 

"  There  is  such  a  thing  as  love ! "  said 
Denzil,  looking  up  quickly,  a  pained  flush  on 
his  handsome  face. 

"  In  the  hearts  of  women,  yes ! "  said 
Ziska,  her  voice  growing  tremulous  with 
strange  and  sudden  passion.  "  Women  love 


232  ZISKA 

— ah  ! — with  what  force  and  tenderness  and 
utter  abandonment  of  self  !  But  their  love 
is  in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  utterly 
wasted  ;  it  is  a  largesse  flung  to  the  ungrate- 
ful, a  jewel  tossed  in  the  mire !  If  there 
were  not  some  compensation  in  the  next  life 
for  the  ruin  wrought  on  loving  women,  the 
Eternal  God  himself  would  be  a  mockery 
and  a  jest." 

"  And  is  he  not  ?  "  queried  Gervase,  iron- 
ically. "  Fair  Princess,  I  would  not  will- 
ingly shake  your  faith  in  things  unseen,  but 
what  does  the  '  Eternal  God,'  as  you  call  Him, 
care  as  to  the  destiny  of  any  individual 
unit  on  this  globe  of  matter?  Does  He 
interfere  when  the  murderer's  knife  descends 
upon  the  victim  ?  And  has  He  ever  inter- 
fered ?  He  it  is  who  created  the  sexes  and 
placed  between  them  the  strong  attraction 
that  often  works  more  evil  and  misery  than 
good  ;  and  what  barrier  has  He  ever  inter- 
posed between  woman  and  man,  her  natural 
destroyer  ?  None  ! — save  the  trifling  one 
of  virtue,  which  is  a  flimsy  thing,  and  often 
breaks  down  at  the  first  temptation.  No, 
my  dear  Princess  ;  the  '  Eternal  God,'  if  there 
is  one,  does  nothing  but  look  on  impassively 
at  the  universal  havoc  of  creation.  And  in 
the  blindness  and  silence  of  things,  I  cannot 


ZISKA  233 

recognize  an  Eternal  God  at  all ;  we  were 
evidently  made  to  eat,  drink,  breed  and  die 
— and  there  an  end." 

"  What  of  ambition  ?  "  asked  Dr.  Dean. 
"  What  of  the  inspiration  that  lifts  a  man 
beyond  himself  and  his  material  needs,  and 
teaches  him  to  strive  after  the  Highest?" 

"  Mere  mad  folly  !  "  replied  Gervase  im- 
petuously. "Take  the  Arts.  I,  for  ex- 
ample, dream  of  painting  a  picture  that  shall 
move  the  world  to  admiration, — but  I  seldom 
grasp  the  idea  I  have  imagined.  I  paint 
something, — anything, — and  the  world  gapes 
at  it,  and  some  rich  fool  buys  it,  leaving 
me  free  to  paint  another  something  ;  and 
so  on  and  so  on,  to  the  end  of  my  career. 
I  ask  you  what  satisfaction  does  it  bring  ? 
What  is  it  to  Raphael  that  thousands  of 
human  units,  cultured  and  silly,  have  stared 
at  his '  Madonnas '  and  his  famous  Cartoons  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  do  not  exactly  know  what  it 
may  or  may  not  be  to  Raphael,"  said  the 
Doctor,  meditatively.  "  According  to  my 
theories,  Raphael  is  not  dead,  but  merely 
removed  into  another  form,  on  another 
planet  possibly,  and  is  working  elsewhere. 
You  might  as  well  ask  what  it  is  to  Araxes 
now  that  he  was  a  famous  warrior  once  ?  " 

Gervase  moved  uneasily. 


234  ZISKA 

"You  have  got  Araxes  on  the  brain, 
Doctor,"  he  said,  with  a  forced  smile,  "  and 
in  our  conversation  we  are  forgetting  that 
the  Princess  has  promised  to  tell  us  a  fairy- 
tale, the  story  of  the  Great  Pyramid." 

The  Princess  looked  at  him,  then  at  Denzil 
Murray,  and  lastly  at  Dr.  Dean. 

"  Would  you  really  care  to  hear  it  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Most  certainly !  "  they  all  three  answered. 

She  rose  from  the  dinner-table. 

"  Come  here  to  the  window,"  she  said. 
"  You  can  see  the  great  structure  now,  in 
the  dusky  light, — look  at  it  well  and  try,  if 
you  can,  to  realize  that  deep,  deep  down  in 
the  earth  on  which  it  stands  is  a  connected 
gallery  of  rocky  caves  wherein  no  human 
foot  has  ever  penetrated  since  the  Deluge 
swept  over  the  land  and  made  a  desert  of  all 
the  old-time  civilization  !  " 

Her  slight  figure  appeared  to  dilate  as  she 
spoke,  raising  one  slender  hand  and  arm  to 
point  at  the  huge  mass  that  towered  up 
against  the  clear,  starlit  sky.  Her  listeners 
were  silent,  awed  and  attentive. 

"  One  of  the  latest  ideas  concerning  the 
Pyramids  is,  as  you  know,  that  they  were 
built  as  towers  of  defence  against  the  Del- 
uge. That  is  correct.  The  wise  men  of 


ZISKA  235 

the  old  days  foretold  the  time  when  'the 
waters  should  rise  and  cover  the  earth,'  and 
these  huge  monuments  were  prepared  and 
raised  to  a  height  which  it  was  estimated 
would  always  appear  above  the  level  of  the 
coming  flood,  to  show  where  the  treasures 
of  Egypt  were  hidden  for  safety.  Yes, — 
the  treasures  of  Egypt,  the  wisdom,  the 
science  of  Egypt !  They  are  all  down  there 
still !  And  there,  to  all  intents  and  purposes, 
they  are  likely  to  remain." 

"  But  archaeologists  are  of  the  opinion  that 
the  Pyramids  have  been  thoroughly  ex- 
plored," began  Dr.  Dean,  with  some  excite- 
ment. 

The  Princess  interrupted  him  by  a  slight 
gesture. 

"  Archaeologists,  my  dear  Doctor,  are  like 
the  rest  of  this  world's  so-called  '  learned ' 
men ;  they  work  in  one  groove,  and  are 
generally  content  with  it.  Sometimes  an 
unusually  brilliant  brain  conceives  the  erratic 
notion  of  working  in  several  grooves,  and  is 
straightway  judged  as  mad  or  fanatic.  It  is 
when  these  comet-like  intelligences  sweep 
across  the  world's  horizon  that  we  hear  of  a 
Julius  Caesar,  a  Napoleon,  a  Shakespeare. 
But  archaeologists  are  the  narrowest  and 
dryest  of  men, — they  preconceive  a  certain 


236  X    ZISKA. 

system  of  work  and  follow  it  out  by  mathe- 
matical rule  and  plan,  without  one  touch 
of  imagination  to  help  them  to  discover  new 
channels  of  interest  or  historical  information. 
As  I  told  you  before  I  began  to  speak,  you 
are  welcome  to  entirely  disbelieve  my  story 
of  the  Great  Pyramid, — but  as  I  have  begun 
it,  you  may  as  well  hear  it  through." 
She  paused  a  moment,  then  went  on : 
"  According  to  my  information,  the  build- 
ing of  the  Pyramids  was  commenced  three 
hundred  years  before  the  Deluge,  in  the 
time  of  Saurid,  the  son  of  Sabaloc,  who,  it  is 
said,  was  the  first  to  receive  a  warning  dream 
of  the  coming  flood.  Saurid,  being  con- 
vinced by  his  priests,  astrologers  and  sooth- 
sayers that  the  portent  was  a  true  one,  be- 
came from  that  time  possessed  of  one  idea, 
which  was  that  the  vast  learning  of  Egypt, 
its  sciences,  discoveries  and  strange  tradi- 
tions should  not  be  lost, — and  that  the  ex- 
ploits and  achievements  of  those  who  were 
great  and  famous  in  the  land  should  be  so 
recorded  as  never  to  be  forgotten.  In  those 
days,  here  where  you  see  these  measureless 
tracts  of  sand,  there  were  great  mountainous 
rocks  and  granite  quarries,  and  Saurid  util- 
ized these  for  the  hollowing  out  of  deep 
caverns  in  which  to  conceal  treasure.  When 


ZISKA.  237 

these  caverns  were  prepared  to  his  liking,  he 
caused  a  floor  to  be  made,  portions  of  which 
were  rendered  movable  by  means  of  secret 
springs,  and  then  leaving  a  hollow  space  of 
some  four  feet  in  height,  he  started  founda- 
tions for  another  floor  above  it.  This  upper 
floor  is  what  you  nowadays  see  when  you 
enter  the  Pyramid, — and  no  one  imagines 
that  under  it  is  an  open  space  with  room  to 
walk  in,  and  yet  another  floor  below,  where 
everything  of  value  is  secreted." 

Dr.  Dean  tdrew  a  long  breath  of  wonder- 
ment. 

"  Astonishing,  if  true !  " 

The  Princess  smiled  somewhat  disdain- 
fully, and  went  on : 

"Saurid's  work  was  carried  on  after  his 
death  by  his  successors,  and  with  thousands 
of  slaves  toiling  night  and  day  the  Pyramids 
were  in  the  course  of  years  raised  above  the 
caverns  which  concealed  Egypt's  mysteries. 
Everything  was  gradually  accumulated  in 
these  underground  store-houses, — the  en- 
graved talismans,  the  slabs  of  stone  on  which 
were  deeply  carved  the  geometrical  and  astro- 
nomical sciences  ;  indestructible  glass  chests 
containing  papyri,  on  which  were  written  the 
various  discoveries  made  in  beneficial  drugs, 
swift  poisons,  and  other  medicines.  And 


238  ZISKA 

among  these  many  things  were  thirty  great 
jars  full  of  precious  stones,  some  of  which 
were  marvels  of  the  earth.  They  are  there 
still !  And  some  of  the  great  men  who  died 
were  interred  in  these  caves,  every  one  in  a 
separate  chamber  inlaid  with  gold  and  gems, 
and  I  think,"  here  the  Princess  turned  her 
dark  eyes  full  on  Dr.  Dean,  "  I  think  that  if 
you  knew  the  secret  way  of  lifting  the  ap- 
parently immovable  floor,  which  is  like  the 
solid  ground,  and  descending  through  the 
winding  galleries  beneath,  it  is  more  than 
probable  you  would  find  in  the  Great  Pyra- 
mid the  tomb  of  Araxes ! " 

Her  eyes  glistened  strangely  in  the  even- 
ing light  with  that  peculiar  fiery  glow  which 
had  made  Dr.  Dean  once  describe  them  as 
being  like  the  eyes  of  a  vampire-bat,  and 
there  was  something  curiously  impressive  in 
her  gesture  as  she  once  more  pointed  to  the 
towering  structure  which  loomed  against  the 
heavens,  with  one  star  flashing  immediately 
above  it.  A  sudden  involuntary  shudder 
shook  Gervase  as  with  icy  cold ;  he  moved 
restlessly,  and  presently  remarked  : 

"  Well,  it  is  a  safe  tomb,  at  any  rate ! 
Whoever  Araxes  was,  he  stands  little  chance 
of  being  exhumed  if  he  lies  two  floors  below 
the  Great  Pyramid  in  a  sealed-up  rocky 


ZISKA  239 

cavern  !  Princess,  you  look  like  an  inspired 
prophetess ! — so  much  talk  of  ancient  and 
musty  times  makes  me  feel  uncanny,  and  I 
will,  with  your  permission,  have  a  smoke 
with  Dr.  Dean  in  the  garden  to  steady  my 
nerves.  The  mere  notion  of  thirty  vases 
of  unclaimed  precious  stones  hidden  down 
yonder  is  enough  to  upset  any  man's 
equanimity  !  " 

"  The  papyri  would  interest  me  more  than 
the  jewels,"  said  Dr.  Dean.  "  What  do  you 
say,  Denzil  ?  " 

Denzil  Murray  woke  up  suddenly  from  a 
fit  of  abstraction. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  anything  about  it," 
he  answered.  "  I  never  was  very  much  in- 
terested in  those  old  times, — they  seem  to 
me  all  myth.  I  could  never  link  past,  pres- 
ent and  future  together  as  some  people  can  ; 
they  are  to  me  all  separate  things.  The 
past  is  done  with, — the  present  is  our  own 
to  enjoy  or  to  detest,  and  the  future  no  man 
can  look  into." 

"  Ah,  Denzil,  you  are  young,  and  reflec- 
tion has  not  been  very  hard  at  work  in  that 
headstrong  brain  of  yours,"  said  Dr.  Dean 
with  an  indulgent  smile,  "  otherwise  you 
would  see  that  past,  present  and  future  are 
one  and  indissoluble.  The  past  is  as  much 


240  ZISKA 

a  part  of  your  present  identity  as  the  pres- 
ent, and  the  future,  too,  lies  in  you  in  em- 
bryo. The  mystery  of  one  man's  life  con- 
tains all  mysteries,  and  if  we  could  only 
understand  it  from  its  very  beginning  we 
should  find  out  the  cause  of  all  things,  and 
the  ultimate  intention  of  creation." 

"  Well,  now,  you  have  all  had  enough 
serious  talk,"  said  the  Princess  Ziska  lightly, 
"so  let  us  adjourn  to  the  drawing-room. 
One  of  my  waiting-women  shall  sing  to  you 
by  and  by  ;  she  has  a  very  sweet  voice." 

"  Is  it  she  who  sings  that  song  about  the 
lotus-lily  ?  "  asked  Gervase,  suddenly. 

The  Princess  smiled  strangely. 

"  Yes,— it  is  she." 

Dr.  Dean  chose  a  cigar  from  a  silver  box 
on  the  table ;  Gervase  did  the  same. 

"  Won't  you  smoke,  Denzil  ? "  he  asked 
carelessly. 

"  No,  thanks ! "  Denzil  spoke  hurriedly 
and  hoarsely.  "  I  think — if  the  Princess 
will  permit  me — I  will  stay  and  talk  with 
her  in  the  drawing-room  while  you  two  have 
your  smoke  together." 

The  Princess  gave  a  charming  bow  of 
assent  to  this  proposition.  Gervase  took 
the  Doctor  somewhat  roughly  by  the  arm 
and  led  him  out  through  the  open  French 


ZISKA  241 

window  into  the  grounds  beyond,  remark- 
ing as  he  went : 

"  You  will  excuse  us,  Princess  ?  We  leave 
you  in  good  company  !  " 

She  smiled. 

"  I  will  excuse  you,  certainly !  But  do 
not  be  long !  " 

And  she  passed  from  the  dining-room  in- 
to the  small  saloon  beyond,  followed  closely 
by  Denzil. 

Once  out  in  the  grounds,  Gervase  gave 
vent  to  a  boisterous  fit  of  wild  laughter,  so 
loud  and  fierce  that  little  Dr.  Dean  came  to 
an  abrupt  standstill,  and  stared  at  him  in 
something  of  alarm  as  well  as  amazement. 

"  Are  you  goir.g  mad,  Gervase  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes !  "  cried  Gervase,  "  that  is  just  it, — I 
am  going  mad, — mad  for  love,  or  whatever 
you  please  to  call  it !  What  do  you  think 
I  am  made  of  ?  Flesh  and  blood,  or  cast- 
iron  ?  Heavens  !  Do  you  think  if  all  the 
elements  were  to  combine  in  a  war  against 
me,  they  should  cheat  me  out  of  this  woman 
or  rob  me  of  her?  No,  no!  A  thousand 
times  no!  Satisfy  yourself,  my  excellent 
Doctor,  with  your  musty  records  of  the  past, 
— prate  as  you  choose  of  the  future, — but 
in  the  immediate,  burning,  active  present 
my  will  is  law !  And  the  fool  Denzil  thinks 
16 


242  ZISKA 

to  thwart  me, — I,  who  have  never  been 
thwarted  since  I  knew  the  meaning  of  ex- 
istence ! " 

He  paused  in  a  kind  of  breathless  agita- 
tion, and  Dr.  Dean  grasped  his  arm  firmly. 

"  Come,  come,  what  is  all  this  excitement 
for  ?  "  he  said.  "  What  are  you  saying  about 
Denzil  ?  " 

Gervase  controlled  himself  with  a  violent 
effort  and  forced  a  smile. 

"  He  has  got  his  chance, — I  have  given  it 
to  him  !  He  is  alone  with  the  Princess,  and 
he  is  asking  her  to  be  his  wife  !  " 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  the  Doctor  sharply. 
"  If  he  does  commit  such  a  folly,  it  will  be 
no  use.  The  woman  is  not  human  !  " 

"  Not  human?  "  echoed  Gervase,  his  black 
eyes  dilating  with  a  sudden  amazement — 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

The  little  Doctor  rubbed  his  nose  im- 
patiently and  seemed  sorry  he  had  spoken. 

"  I  mean — let  me  see  !  What  do  I  mean  ?  " 
he  said  at  last  meditatively — "  Oh,  well,  it 
is  easy  enough  of  explanation.  There  are 
plenty  of  people  like  the  Princess  Ziska  to 
whom  I  would  apply  the  words  '  not  human.' 
She  is  all  beauty  and  no  heart.  Again — if 
you  follow  me — she  is  all  desire  and  no 
passion,  which  is  a  character  '  like  unto  the 


ZISKA  243 

beasts  which  perish.'  A  large  majority  of 
men  are  made  so,  and  some  women, — though 
the  women  are  comparatively  few.  Now, 
so  far  as  the  Princess  Ziska  is  concerned," 
continued  the  Doctor,  fixing  his  keen,  pene- 
trative glance  on  Gervase  as  he  spoke,  "  I 
franklyadmit  to  you  that  I  find  in  her  material 
fora  very  curious  and  complex  study.  That 
is  why  I  have  come  after  her  here.  I  have 
said  she  is  all  desire  and  no  passion.  That 
of  itself  is  inhuman  ;  but  what  I  am  busy 
about  now  is  to  try  and  analyze  the  nature 
of  the  particular  desire  that  moves  her,  con- 
trols her,  keeps  her  alive, — in  short.  It  is  not 
love ;  of  that  I  feel  confident ;  and  it  is  not 
hate, — though  it  is  more  like  hate  than  love. 
It  is  something  indefinable,  something  that 
is  almost  occult,  so  deep-seated  and  bewilder- 
ing is  the  riddle.  You  look  upon  me  as  a 
madman — yes  !  I  know  you  do  !  But  mad 
or  sane,  I  emphatically  repeat,  the  Princess 
is  not  human,  and  by  this  expression  I  wish 
to  imply  that  though  she  has  the  outward 
appearance  of  a  most  beautiful  and  seductive 
human  body,  she  has  the  soul  of  a  fiend. 
Now,  do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  It  would  take  CEdipus  himself  all  his  time 
to  do  that," — said  Gervase,  forcing  a  laugh 
which  had  no  mirth  in  it,  for  he  was  con- 


244  ZISKA 

scious  of  a  vaguely  unpleasant  sensation — a 
chill,  as  of  some  dark  presentiment,  which 
oppressed  his  mind.  "  When  you  know  I  do 
not  believe  in  the  soul,  why  do  you  talk  to 
me  about  it?  The  soul  of  a  fiend, — the  soul 
of  an  angel, — what  are  they  ?  Mere  empty 
terms  to  me,  meaning  nothing.  I  think  I 
agree  with  you  though,  in  one  or  two  points 
concerning  the  Princess ;  par  exemple,  I  do 
not  look  upon  her  as  one  of  those  delicately 
embodied  purities  of  womanhood  before 
whom  we  men  instinctively  bend  in  rev- 
erence, but  whom,  at  the  same  time,  we  gen- 
erally avoid,  ashamed  of  our  vileness.  No  ; 
she  is  certainly  not  one  of  the 

"  '  Maiden  roses  left  to  die 
Because  they  climb  so  near  the  sky, 
That  not  the  boldest  passer-by 
Can  pluck  them  from  their  vantage  high.' 

And  whether  it  is  best  to  be  a  solitary 
'  maiden-rose '  or  a  Princess  Ziska,  who  shall 
say  ?  And  human  or  inhuman,  whatever 
composition  she  is  made  of,  you  may  make 
yourself  positively  certain  that  Denzil  Murray 
is  just  now  doing  his  best  to  persuade  her 
to  be  a  Highland  chatelaine  in  the  future. 
Heavens,  what  a  strange  fate  it  will  be  for 
la  belle  Egyptienne  !  " 


ZISKA  245 

"  Oh,  you  think  she  is  Egyptian  then  ?  " 
queried  Dr.  Dean,  with  an  air  of  lively 
curiosity. 

"  Of  course  I  do.  She  has  the  Egyptian 
type  of  form  and  countenance.  Consider 
only  the  resemblance  between  her  and  the 
dancer  she  chose  to  represent  the  other  night 
— the  Ziska-Charmazel  of  the  antique  sculp- 
ture on  her  walls !  " 

"  Ay,  but  if  you  grant  one  resemblance, 
you  must  also  admit  another,"  said  the  Doc- 
tor quickly.  "  The  likeness  between  your- 
self and  the  old-world  warrior,  Araxes,  is  no 
less  remarkable  !  "  Gervase  moved  uneasily, 
and  a  sudden  pallor  blanched  his  face, 
making  it  look  wan  and  haggard  in  the  light 
of  the  rising  moon.  "  And  it  is  rather  sin- 
gular," went  on  the  imperturbable  savant, 
"  that  according  to  the  legend  or  history — 
whichever  you  please  to  consider  it, — for  in 
time,  legends  become  histories  and  histories 
legends — Araxes  should  have  been  the  lover 
of  this  very  Ziska-Charmazel,  and  that  you, 
who  are  the  living  portrait  of  Araxes,  should 
suddenly  become  enamored  of  the  equally 
living  portrait  of  the  dead  woman  !  You 
must  own,  that  to  a  mere  onlooker  and  ob- 
server like  myself,  it  seems  a  curious  coin- 
cidence ! " 


246  ZISKA 

Gervase  smoked  on  in  silence,  his  level 
brows  contracted  in  a  musing  frown. 

"  Yes,  it  seems  curious,"  he  said  at  last, 
"  but  a  great  many  curious  coincidences 
happen  in  this  world — so  many  that  we,  in 
our  days  of  rush  and  turmoil,  have  not  time 
to  consider  them  as  they  come  or  go.  Per- 
haps of  all  the  strange  things  in  life,  the 
sudden  sympathies  and  the  headstrong  pas- 
sions which  spring  up  in  a  day  or  a  night 
between  certain  men  and  certain  women  are 
the  strangest.  I  look  upon  you,  Doctor,  as 
a  very  clever  fellow  with  just  a  little  twist 
in  his  brain,  or  let  us  say  a  *  fad '  about 
spiritual  matters ;  but  in  one  of  your  more 
or  less  fantastic  and  extravagant  theories  I 
am  half  disposed  to  believe,  and  that  is  the 
notion  you  have  of  the  possibility  of  some 
natures,  male  and  female,  having  met  before 
in  a  previous  state  of  existence  and  under 
different  forms,  such  as  birds,  flowers,  or 
forest  animals,  or  even  mere  incorporeal 
breaths  of  air  and  flame.  It  is  an  idea  which 
I  confess  fascinates  me.  It  seems  fairly 
reasonable  too,  for,  as  many  scientists  argue 
that  you  cannot  destroy  matter,  but  only 
transform  it,  there  is  really  nothing  impos- 
sible in  the  suggestion." 


ZISKA  247 

He  paused,  then  added  slowly  as  he  flung 
the  end  of  his  cigar  away  : 

"  I  have  felt  the  force  of  this  odd  fancy  of 
yours  most  strongly  since  I  met  the  Prin- 
cess Ziska." 

"  Indeed  !  Then  the  impression  she  gave 
you  first  is  still  upon  you — that  of  having 
known  her  before  ?  " 

Gervase  waited  a  minute  or  two  before 
replying ;  then  he  answered  : 

"Yes.  And  not  only  of  having  known 
her  before,  but  of  having  loved  her  before. 
Love  ! — mon  Dieu  ! — what  a  tame  word  it 
is !  How  poorly  it  expresses  the  actual 
emotion !  Fire  in  the  veins — delirium  in 
the  brain — reason  gone  to  chaos !  And  this 
madness  is  mildly  described  as  '  love  ? ' ' 

"  There  are  other  words  for  it,"  said  the 
Doctor.  "  Words  that  are  not  so  poetic,  but 
which,  perhaps,  are  more  fitting." 

"  No  !  "  interrupted  Gervase,  almost  fierce- 
ly. "  There  are  no  words  which  truly  de- 
scribe this  one  emotion  which  rules  the 
world.  I  know  what  you  mean,  of  course  ; 
you  mean  evil  words,  licentious  words,  and 
yet  it  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
these.  You  cannot  call  such  an  exalted 
state  of  the  nerves  and  sensations  by  an 
evil  name." 


248  ZISKA 

Dr.  Dean  pondered  the  question  for  a  few 
moments. 

"  No,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  can,"  he  said, 
meditatively.  "  If  I  did,  I  should  have  to 
give  an  evil  name  to  the  Creator  who  de- 
signed man  and  woman  and  ordained  the 
law  of  attraction  which  draws,  and  often 
drags  them  together.  I  like  to  be  fair  to 
everybody,  the  Creator  included;  yet  to  be 
fair  to  everybody  I  shall  appear  to  sanction 
immorality.  For  the  fact  is  that  our  civili- 
zation has  upset  all  the  original  intentions 
of  nature.  Nature  evidently  meant  Love, 
or  the  emotion  we  call  Love,  to  be  the 
keynote  of  the  universe.  But  apparently 
Nature  did  not  intend  marriage.  The 
flowers,  the  birds,  the  lower  animals,  mate 
afresh  every  spring,  and  this  is  the  creed 
that  the  disciples  of  Naturalism  nowadays 
are  anxious  to  force  upon  the  attention  of 
the  world.  It  is  only  men  and  women,  they 
say,  that  are  so  foolish  as  to  take  each  other 
for  better  or  worse  till  death  do  them  part. 
Now,  I  should  like,  from  the  physical  scien- 
tist's point  of  view,  to  prove  that  the  men 
and  women  are  wrong,  and  that  the  lower 
animals  are  right ;  but  spiritual  science 
comes  in  and  confutes  me.  For  in  spiritual 
science  I  find  this  truth,  which  will  not  be 


ZISKA  249 

gainsaid — namely,  that  from  time  imme- 
morial, certain  immortal  forms  of  Nature 
have  been  created  solely  for  one  another; 
like  two  halves  of  a  circle,  they  are  intended 
to  meet  and  form  the  perfect  round,  and  all 
the  elements  of  creation,  spiritual  and  mate- 
rial, will  work  their  hardest  to  pull  them  to- 
gether. Such  natures,  I  consider,  should 
absolutely  and  imperatively  be  joined  in 
marriage.  It  then  becomes  a  divine  decree. 
Even  grant,  if  you  like,  that  the  natures  so 
joined  are  evil,  and  that  the  sympathy  be- 
tween them  is  of  a  more  or  less  reprehensi- 
ble character,  it  is  quite  as  well  that  they 
should  unite,  and  that  the  result  of  such  an 
union  should  be  seen.  The  evil  might  come 
out  of  them  in  a  family  of  criminals  which 
the  law  could  exterminate  with  advantage  * 
to  the  world  in  general.  Whereas  on  the 
other  hand,  given  two  fine  and  aspiring 
natures  with  perfect  sympathy  between 
them,  as  perfect  as  the  two  notes  of  a  per- 
fect chord,  the  children  of  such  a  marriage 
would  probably  be  as  near  gods  as  humanity 
could  bring  them.  I  speak  as  a  scientist 
merely.  Such  consequences  are  not  fore- 
seen by  the  majority,  and  marriages  as  a 
rule  take  place  between  persons  who  are  by 
no  means  made  for  each  other.  Besides,  a 


250  ZISKA 

kind  of  devil  comes  into  the  business,  and 
often  prevents  the  two  sympathetic  natures 
conjoining.  Love-matters  alone  are  quite 
sufficient  to  convince  me  that  there  is  a 
devil  as  well  as  a  divinity  that  '  shapes  our 
ends.' " 

"  You  speak  as  if  you  yourself  had  loved, 
Doctor,"  said  Gervase,  with  a  half  smile. 

"And  so  I  have,"  replied  the  Doctor, 
calmly.  "  I  have  loved  to  the  full  as  passion- 
ately and  ardently  as  even  you  can  love.  I 
thank  God  the  woman  I  loved  died, — I  could 
never  have  possessed  her,  for  she  was  already 
wedded, — and  I  would  not  have  disgraced 
her  by  robbing  her  from  her  lawful  husband. 
So  Death  stepped  in  and  gave  her  to  me — 
forever  ! "  and  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the 
solemn  starlit  sky.  "  Yes,  nothing  can  ever 
come  between  us  now  ;  no  demon  tears  her 
white  soul  from  me  ;  she  died  innocent  of 
evil,  and  she  is  mine — mine  in  every  pulse  of 
her  being,  as  we  shall  both  know  hereafter !  " 

His  face,  which  was  not  remarkable  for 
any  beauty  of  feature,  grew  rapt  and  almost 
noble  in  its  expression,  and  Gervase  looked 
at  him  with  a  faint  touch  of  ironical  wonder. 

"  Upon  my  word,  your  morality  almost 
outreaches  your  mysticism  !  "  he  said.  "  I 
see  you  are  one  of  those  old-fashioned  men 


ZISKA  251 

who  think  marriage  a  sacred  sort  of  thing 
and  the  only  self-respecting  form  of  love." 

"  Old-fashioned  I  may  be,"  replied  Dr. 
Dean  ;  "  but  I  certainly  believe  in  marriage 
for  the  woman's  sake.  If  the  license  of  men 
were  not  restrained  by  some  sort  of  barrier 
it  would  break  all  bounds.  Now  I,  had  I 
chosen,  could  have  taken  the  woman  I  loved 
to  myself ;  it  needed  but  a  little  skilful  per- 
suasion on  my  part,  for  her  husband  was  a 
drink-sodden  ruffian  .  .  ." 

"  And  why,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  did 
you  not  do  so  ? "  demanded  Gervase  impa- 
tiently. 

"  Because  I  know  the  end  of  all  such 
liaisons,"  said  the  Doctor  sadly.  "  A  month 
or  two  of  delirious  happiness,  then  years  of 
remorse  to  follow.  The  man  is  lowered  in 
his  own  secret  estimation  of  himself,  and  the 
woman  is  hopelessly  ruined,  socially  and 
morally.  No,  Death  is  far  better  ;  and  in 
my  case  Death  has  proved  a  good  friend,  for 
it  has  given  me  the  spotless  soul  of  the 
woman  I  loved,  which  is  far  fairer  than  her 
body  was." 

"  But,  unfortunately,  intangible  !  "  said 
Gervase,  satirically. 

The  Doctor  looked  at  him  keenly  and 
coldly. 


252  ZISKA 

"  Do  not  be  too  sure  of  that,  my  friend ! 
Never  talk  about  what  you  do  not  under- 
stand ;  you  only  wander  astray.  The  spirit- 
ual world  is  a  blank  to  you,  so  do  not  pre- 
sume to  judge  of  what  you  will  never  realize 
till  realization  is  forced  upon  you  !  " 

He  uttered  the  last  words  with  slow  and 
singular  emphasis. 

"  Forced  upon  me  ? "  began  Gervase. 
"What  do  you  mean?  .  .  ." 

He  broke  off  abruptly,  for  at  that  moment 
Denzil  Murray  emerged  from  the  doorway 
of  the  hotel,  and  came  towards  them  with  an 
unsteady,  swaying  step  like  that  of  a  drunken 
man. 

"  You  had  better  go  in  to  the  Princess," 
he  said,  staring  at  Gervase  with  a  wild  smile  ; 
"  she  is  waiting  for  you  !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Denzil  ?  " 
inquired  Dr.  Dean,  catching  him  by  the  arm 
as  he  made  a  movement  to  go  on  and  pass 
them. 

Denzil  stopped,  frowning  impatiently. 

"  Matter  ?  Nothing  !  What  should  be 
the  matter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  offence  ;  no  offence,  my  boy !  " 
and  Dr.  Dean  at  once  loosened  his  arm.  "  I 
only  thought  you  looked  as  if  you  had  had 
some  upset  or  worry,  that's  all." 


ZISKA  253 

"  Climate !  climate !  "  said  Denzil,  hoarse- 
ly. "  Egypt  does  not  agree  with  me,  I 
suppose  ! — the  dryness  of  the  soil  breeds 
fever  and  a  touch  of  madness !  Men  are  not 
blocks  of  wood  or  monoliths  of  stone  ;  they 
are  creatures  of  flesh  and  blood,  of  nerve 
and  muscle  ;  you  cannot  torture  them 
so.  .  .  ." 

He  interrupted  himself  with  a  kind  of 
breathless  irritation  at  his  own  speech. 
Gervase  regarded  him  steadily,  slightly 
smiling. 

"  Torture  them  how,  Denzil  ?  "  asked  the 
Doctor,  kindly.  "  Dear  lad,  you  are  talking 
nonsense.  Come  and  stroll  with  me  up  and 
down  ;  the  air  is  quite  balmy  and  delightful ; 
it  will  cool  your  brain." 

"  Yes,  it  needs  cooling  !  "  retorted  Denzil, 
beginning  to  laugh  with  a  sort  of  wild  hilarity. 
"  Too  much  wine, — too  much  woman, — too 
much  of  these  musty  old-world  records  and 
ghastly  pyramids !  " 

Here  he  broke  off,  adding  quickly  : 

"  Doctor,  Helen  and  I  will  go  back  to 
England  next  week,  if  all  is  well." 

"  Why,  certainly,  certainly  !  "  said  Dr. 
Dean,  soothingly.  "  I  think  we  are  all  begin- 
ning to  feel  we  have  had  enough  of  Egypt.  I 
shall  probably  return  home  with  you.  Mean- 


254  ZISKA 

while,  come  for  a  stroll  and  talk  to  me  ;  Mon- 
sieur Armand  Gervase  will  perhaps  go  in  and 
excuse  us  for  a  few  minutes  to  the  Princess 
Ziska." 

"  With  pleasure  !  "  said  Gervase  ;  then, 
beckoning  Denzil  Murray  aside,  he  whis- 
pered : 

"  Tell  me,  have  you  won  or  lost  ?  " 

"  Lost !"  replied  Denzil,  fiercely,  through 
his  set  teeth.  "  It  is  your  turn  now  !  But, 
if  you  win,  as  sure  as  there  is  a  God  above 
us,  I  will  kill  you  !  " 

"  So  it  !  But  not  till  I  am  ready  for  kill- 
ing !  After  to-morrow  night  I  shall  be  at 
your  service,  not  till  then  !  " 

And  smiling  coldly,  his  dark  face  looking 
singularly  pale  and  stern  in  the  moonlight, 
Gervase  turned  away,  and,  walking  with  his 
usual  light,  swift,  yet  leisurely  tread,  entered 
the  Princess's  apartment  by  the  French  win- 
dow which  was  still  open,  and  from  which 
the  sound  of  sweet  music  came  floating  deli- 
ciously  on  the  air  as  he  disappeared. 


ZISKA  255 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN  a  half-reclining  attitude  of  indolently 
graceful  ease,  the  Princess  Ziska  watched 
from  beneath  the  slumbrous  shadow  of  her 
long-fringed  eyelids  the  approach  of  her 
now  scarcely-to-be  controlled  lover.  He 
came  towards  her  with  a  certain  impetuosity 
of  movement  which  was  so  far  removed  from 
ordinary  conventionality  as  to  be  wholly 
admirable  from  the  purely  picturesque  point 
of  view,  despite  the  fact  that  it  expressed 
more  passion  and  impatience  than  were 
in  keeping  with  nineteenth-century  customs 
and  manners.  He  had  almost  reached  her 
side  before  he  became  aware  that  there 
were  two  other  women  in  the  room  besides 
the  Princess, — silent,  veiled  figures  that  sat, 
or  rather  crouched,  on  the  floor,  holding 
quaintly  carved  and  inlaid  musical  instru- 
ments of  some  antique  date  in  their  hands, 
the  only  sign  of  life  about  them  being  their 
large,  dark,  glistening  almond-shaped  eyes, 
which  were  every  now  and  then  raised  and 


2?6  ZISKA. 

fixed  on  Gervase  with  an  intense  and  search- 
ing look  of  inquiry.  Strangely  embarrassed 
by  their  glances,  he  addressed  the  Princess 
in  a  low  tone  : 

"  Will  you  not  send  away  your  women?" 

She  smiled. 

"  Yes,  presently ;  if  you  wish  it,  I  will. 
But  you  must  hear  some  music  first.  Sit 
down  there,"  and  she  pointed  with  her 
small  jewelled  hand  to  a  low  chair  near  her 
own.  "  My  lutist  shall  sing  you  something, 
— in  English,  of  course  ! — for  all  the  world 
is  being  Anglicized  by  degrees,  and  there 
will  soon  be  no  separate  nations  left.  Some- 
thing, too,  of  romantic  southern  passion  is 
being  gradually  grafted  on  to  English  senti- 
ment, so  that  English  songs  are  not  so  stupid 
as  they  were  once.  I  translated  some  stanzas 
from  one  of  the  old  Egyptian  poets  into 
English  the  other  day,  perhaps  you  will  like 
them.  Myrmentis,  sing  us  the  '  Song  of 
Darkness.'  " 

An  odd  sensation  of  familiarity  with  the 
name  of  "  Myrmentis  "  startled  Gervase  as 
he  heard  it  pronounced,  and  he  looked  at 
the  girl  who  was  so  called  in  a  kind  of  dread. 
But  she  did  not  meet  his  questioning  re- 
gard,— she  was  already  bending  over  her  lute 
and  tuning  its  strings,  while  her  companion 


ZISKA  257 

likewise  prepared  to  accompany  her  on  a 
similar  though  larger  instrument,  and  in  an- 
other moment  her  voice,  full  and  rich,  with 
a  sobbing  passion  in  it  which  thrilled  him 
to  the  inmost  soul,  rang  out  on  the  warm 
silence  : 

In  the  darkness  what  deeds  are  done  ! 

What  wild  words  spoken  ! 
What  joys  are  tasted,  what  passion  wasted  ! 

What  hearts  are  broken  ! 
Not  a  glimpse  of  the  moon  shall  shine, 

Not  a  star  shall  mark 
The  passing  of  night, — or  shed  its  light 

On  my  Dream  of  the  Dark  ! 

On  the  scented  and  slumbrous  air, 

Strange  thoughts  are  thronging  ; 
And  a  blind  desire  more  fierce  than  fire 

Fills  the  soul  with  longing  ; 
Through  the  silence  heavy  and  sweet 

Comes  the  panting  breath 
Of  a  lover  unseen  from  the  Might-Have-Been, 

Whose  loving  is  Death  ! 

In  the  darkness  a  deed  was  done, 

A  wild  word  spoken  ! 
A  joy  was  tasted, — a  passion  wasted, — 

A  heart  was  broken  ! 
Not  a  glimpse  of  the  moon  shall  shine, 

Not  a  star  shall  mark 
The  passing  of  night, — or  shed  its  light 

On  my  Dream  of  the  Dark  ! 

The  song  died  away  in  a  shuddering  echo, 
17 


258  ZISKA 

and  before  Gervase  had  time  to  raise  his 
eyes  from  their  brooding  study  of  the  floor 
the  singer  and  her  companion  had  noiselessly 
disappeared,  and  he  was  left  alone  with  the 
Princess  Ziska.  He  drew  along  breath,  and 
turning  fully  round  in  his  chair,  looked  at 
her  steadily.  There  was  a  faint  smile  on  her 
lips — a  smile  of  mingled  mockery  and  tri- 
umph,— her  beautiful  witch-like  eyes  glit- 
tered. Leaning  towards  her,  he  grasped  her 
hands  suddenly  in  his  own. 

"  Now,"  he  whispered,  "  shall  I  speak  or 
be  silent  ?  " 

"  Whichever  you  please,"  she  responded 
composedly,  still  smiling.  "  Speech  or  si- 
lence rest  equally  with  yourself.  I  compel 
neither." 

"  That  is  false  ! "  he  said  passionately. 
"  You  do  compel !  Your  eyes  drag  my  very 
soul  out  of  me — your  touch  drives  me  into 
frenzy  !  You  temptress  !  You  force  me  to 
speak,  though  you  know  already  what  I  have 
to  say !  That  I  love  you,  love  you !  And 
that  you  love  me !  That  your  whole  life 
leaps  to  mine  as  mine  to  yours !  You  know 
all  this  ;  if  I  were  stricken  dumb,  you  could 
read  it  in  my  face,  but  you  will  have  it 
spoken — you  will  extort  from  me  the  whole 
secret  of  my  madness  ! — yes,  for  you  to  take 


ZISKA  259 

a  cruel  joy  in  knowing  that  I  am  mad — mad 
for  the  love  of  you  !  And  you  cannot  be 
too  often  or  too  thoroughly  assured  that 
your  own  passion  finds  its  reflex  in  me  ! " 

He  paused,  abruptly  checked  in  his  wild 
words  by  the  sound  of  her  low,  sweet,  chill 
laughter.  She  withdrew  her  hands  from  his 
burning  grasp. 

"  My  dear  friend,"  she  said  lightly,  "  you 
really  have  a  very  excellent  opinion  of  your- 
self— excuse  me  for  saying  so  !  '  My  own 
passion  ! '  Do  you  actually  suppose  I  have 
a  '  passion '  for  you  ?  "  And  rising  from  her 
chair,  she  drew  up  her  slim  supple  figure  to 
its  full  height  and  looked  at  him  with  an 
amused  and  airy  scorn.  "  You  are  totally 
mistaken !  No  one  man  living  can  move 
me  to  love  ;  I  know  all  men  too  well !  Their 
natures  are  uniformly  composed  of  the  same 
mixture  of  cruelty,  lust  and  selfishness ;  and 
forever  and  forever,  through  all  the  ages 
of  the  world,  they  use  the  greater  part  of 
their  intellectual  abilities  in  devising  new 
ways  to  condone  and  conceal  their  vices. 
You  call  me  '  temptress  '  ;  —  why  ?  The 
temptation,  if  any  there  be,  emanates  from 
yourself  and  your  own  unbridled  desires ;  I 
do  nothing.  I  am  made  as  I  am  made;  if 
my  face  or  my  form  seems  fair  in  your  eyes, 


260  ZISKA 

this  is  not  my  fault.  Your  glance  lights  on 
me,  as  the  hawk's  lights  on  coveted  prey ; 
but  think  you  the  prey  loves  the  hawk  in 
response  ?  It  is  the  mistake  all  men  make 
with  all  women, — to  judge  them  always  as 
being  of  the  same  base  material  as  them- 
selves. Some  women  there  are  who  shame 
their  womanhood ;  but  the  majority,  as  a 
rule,  preserve  their  self-respect  till  taught 
by  men  to  lose  it." 

Gervase  sprang  up  and  faced  her,  his  eyes 
flashing  dangerously. 

"  Do  not  make  any  pretence  with  me ! " 
he  said  half  angrily.  "  Never  tell  me  you 
cannot  love !  .  .  ." 

"  I  have  loved  ! "  she  interrupted  him. 
"  As  true  women  love, — once,  and  only  once. 
It  suffices  ;  not  for  one  lifetime,  but  many. 
I  loved  ;  and  gave  myself  ungrudgingly  and 
trustingly  to  the  man  my  soul  worshipped. 
I  was  betrayed,  of  course ! — it  is  the  usual 
story — quite  old,  quite  commonplace!  I 
can  tell  it  to  you  without  so  much  as  a  blush 
of  pain  !  Since  then  I  have  not  loved, — I 
have  hated ;  and  I  live  but  for  one  thing — 
Revenge." 

Her  face  paled  as  she  spoke,  and  a  some- 
thing vague,  dark,  spectral  and  terrible 
seemed  to  enfold  her  like  a  cloud  where  she 


ZISKA  26l 

stood.  Anon  she  smiled  sweetly,  and  with 
a  bewitching  provocativeness. 

"Your  'passion/  you  see,  my  friend 
awakens  rather  a  singular  '  reflex  '  in  me  ! — 
not  quite  of  the  nature  you  imagined  !  " 

He  remained  for  a  moment  inert;  then, 
with  an  almost  savage  boldness,  threw  his 
arm  about  her. 

"  Have  everything  your  own  way,  Ziska  !  " 
he  said  in  quick,  fierce  accents.  "  I  will  ac- 
cept all  your  fancies,  and  humor  all  your 
caprices.  I  will  grant  that  you  do  not  love 
me — I  will  even  suppose  that  I  am  repellent 
to  you, — but  that  shall  make  no  difference 
to  my  desire !  You  shall  be  mine ! — willing 
or  unwilling!  If  every  kiss  I  take  from  your 
lips  be  torn  from  you  with  reluctance,  yet 
those  kisses  I  will  have ! — you  shall  not 
escape  me  !  You — you,  out  of  all  women  in 
the  world,  I  choose  .  .  ." 

"  As  your  wife  ?  "  said  Ziska  slowly,  her 
dark  eyes  gleaming  with  a  strange  light  as 
she  dexterously  withdrew  herself  from  his 
embrace. 

He  uttered  an  impatient  exclamation. 

"My  wife!  Dieu !  What  a  banalitd ! 
You,  with  your  exquisite,  glowing  beauty 
and  voluptuous  charm,  you  would  be  a '  wife  ' 
— that  tiresome  figure-head  of  utterly  dull 


262  ZISKA 

respectability?  You,  with  your  unmatched 
air  of  wild  grace  and  freedom,  would  submit 
to  be  tied  down  in  the  bonds  of  marriage, — 
marriage,  which  to  my  thinking  and  that  of 
many  other  men  of  my  character,  is  one  of 
the  many  curses  of  this  idiotic  nineteenth 
century  !  No,  I  offer  you  love,  Ziska ! — 
ideal,  passionate  love  ! — the  glowing,  raptur- 
ous dream  of  ecstasy  in  which  such  a  thing 
as  marriage  would  be  impossible,  the  merest 
vulgar  commonplace — almost  a  profanity." 

"  I  understand ! "  and  the  Princess  Ziska 
regarded  him  intently,  her  breath  coming 
and  going,  and  a  strange  smile  quivering  on 
her  lips.  "  You  would  play  the  part  of  an 
Araxes  over  again  !  " 

He  smiled  ;  and  with  all  the  audacity  of 
a  bold  and  determined  nature,  put  his  arms 
round  her  and  drew  her  close  up  to  his 
breast. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  would  play  the  part 
of  an  Araxes  over  again  !  " 

As  he  uttered  the  words,  an  indescribable 
sensation  of  horror  seized  him — a  mist  dark- 
ened his  sight,  his  blood  grew  cold,  and  a 
tremor  shook  him  from  head  to  foot.  The 
fair  woman's  face  that  was  lifted  so  close  to 
his  own  seemed  spectral  and  far  off ;  and  for 
a  fleeting  moment  her  very  beauty  grew  into 


ZISKA  263 

something  like  hideousness,  as  if  the  strange 
effect  of  the  picture  he  had  painted  of  her 
was  now  becoming  actual  and  apparent — 
namely,  the  face  of  death  looking  through 
the  mask  of  life.  Yet  he  did  not  loosen  his 
arms  from  about  her  waist ;  on  the  contrary 
he  clasped  her  even  more  closely,  and  kept 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  her  with  such  pertinacity 
that  it  seemed  as  if  he  expected  her  to  van- 
ish from  his  sight  while  he  still  held  her. 

"  To  play  the  part  of  an  Araxes  aright," 
she  murmured  then  in  slow  and  dulcet  ac- 
cents, "  you  would  need  to  be  cruel  and 
remorseless,  and  sacrifice  my  life — or  any 
woman's  life — to  your  own  clamorous  and 
selfish  passion.  But  you, — Armand  Gervase, 
— educated,  civilized,  intellectual,  and  totally 
unlike  the  barbaric  Araxes,  could  not  do  that, 
could  you  ?  The  progress  of  the  world,  the 
increasing  intelligence  of  humanity,  the  com- 
ing of  the  Christ,  these  things  are  surely  of 
some  weight  with  you,  are  they  not?  Or 
are  you  made  of  the  same  savage  and  im- 
penitent stuff  as  composed  the  once  famous 
yet  brutal  warrior  of  old  time  ?  Do  you 
admire  the  character  and  spirit  of  Araxes  ? — 
he  who,  if  history  reports  him  truly,  would 
snatch  a  woman's  life  as  though  it  were  a 
wayside  flower,  crush  out  all  its  sweetness 


264  ZISKA 

and  delicacy,  and  then  fling  it  into  the  dust 
withered  and  dead  ?  Do  you  think  that 
because  a  man  is  strong  and  famous,  he  has 
a  right  to  the  love  of  woman  ? — a  charter  to 
destroy  her  as  he  pleases  ?  If  you  remember 
the  story  I  told  you,  Araxes  murdered  with 
his  own  hand  Ziska-Charmazel  the  woman 
who  loved  him." 

"  He  had  perhaps  grown  weary  of  her," 
said  Gervase,  speaking  with  an  effort,  and 
still  studying  the  exquisite  loveliness  of  the 
bewitching  face  that  was  so  close  to  his  own, 
like  a  man  in  a  dream. 

At  this  she  laughed,  and  laid  her  two 
hands  on  his  shoulders  with  a  close  and  cling- 
ing clasp  which  thrilled  him  strangely. 

"  Ah,  there  is  the  difficulty  ! "  she  said. 

"  What  cure  shall  ever  be  found  for  love- 
weariness  ?  Men  are  all  like  children — they 
tire  of  their  toys  ;  hence  the  frequent  trouble 
and  discomfort  of  marriage.  They  grow 
weary  of  the  same  face,  the  same  caressing 
arms,  the  same  faithful  heart !  You,  for  in- 
stance, would  grow  weary  of  me  !  " 

"  I  think  not,"  answered  Gervase.  And 
now  the  vague  sense  of  uncertainty  and  pain 
which  had  distressed  him  passed  away,  leav- 
ing him  fully  self-possessed  once  more.  "  I 
think  you  are  one  of  those  exceptional 


ZISKA  265 

women  whom  a  man  never  grows  weary  of : 
like  a  Cleopatra,  on  any  other  old-world 
enchantress,  you  fascinate  with  a  look,  you 
fasten  with  a  touch,  and  you  have  a  singular 
freshness  and  wild  attraction  about  you  which 
makes  you  unlike  any  other  of  your  sex.  I 
know  well  enough  that  I  shall  never  get  the 
memory  of  you  out  of  my  brain  ;  your  face 
will  haunt  me  till  I  die  !  " 

"  And  after  death  ?  "  she  queried,  half-clos- 
ing her  eyes,  and  regarding  him  languorously 
through  her  silky  black  lashes. 

"  Ah,  ma  belle,  after  that  there  is  nothing 
to  be  done  even  in  the  way  of  love.  Tout 
est  fini  !  Considering  the  brevity  of  life  and 
the  absolute  certainty  of  death,  I  think  that 
the  men  and  women  who  are  so  foolish  as  to 
miss  any  opportunities  of  enjoyment  while 
they  are  alive  deserve  more  punishment  than 
those  who  take  all  they  can  get,  even  in  the 
line  of  what  is  called  wickedness.  Wicked- 
ness is  a  curious  thing :  it  takes  different 
shapes  in  different  lands,  and  what  is  called 
'  wicked  '  here,  is  virtue  in,  let  us  say,  the  Fiji 
Islands.  There  is  really  no  strict  rule  of  con- 
duct in  the  world,  no  fixed  law  of  morality." 

"  There  is  honor !  "  said  the  Princess, 
slowly  ; — "  A  code  which  even  savages  recog- 
nize." 


266  ZISKA 

He  was  silent.  For  a  moment  he  seemed 
to  hesitate ;  but  his  indecision  soon  passed. 
His  face  flushed,  and  anon  grew  pale,  as 
closing  his  arms  more  victoriously  round  the 
fair  woman  who  just  then  appeared  volun- 
tarily to  yield  to  his  embrace,  he  bent  down 
and  whispered  a  few  words  in  the  tiny  ear, 
white  and  delicate  as  a  shell,  which  was  half- 
hidden  by  the  rich  loose  clusters  of  her 
luxuriant  hair.  She  heard,  and  smiled  ;  and 
her  eyes  flashed  with  a  singular  ferocity  which 
he  did  not  see,  otherwise  it  might  have 
startled  him. 

"  I  will  answer  you  to-morrow,"  she  said. 
"Be  patient  till  then." 

And  as  she  spoke,  she  released  herself 
determinedly  from  the  clasp  of  his  arms  and 
withdrew  to  a  little  distance,  looking  at  him 
with  a  fixed  and  searching  scrutiny. 

"  Do  not  preach  patience  to  me !  "  he  ex- 
claimed with  a  laugh.  "  I  never  had  that 
virtue,  and  I  certainly  cannot  begin  to  culti- 
vate it  now." 

"  Had  you  ever  any  virtues  ?  "  she  asked 
in  a  playful  tone  of  something  like  satire. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  consider  virtues," 
he  answered  lightly:  "  If  honesty  is  one,  I 
have  that.  I  make  no  pretence  to  be  what 


ZISKA  267 

I  am  not.  I  would  not  pass  off  somebody 
else's  picture  as  my  own,  for  instance.  But 
I  cannot  sham  to  be  moral.  I  could  not 
possibly  love  a  woman  without  wanting  her 
all  to  myself,  and  I  have  not  the  slightest 
belief  in  the  sanctimonious  humbug  of  a  man 
who  plays  the  Platonic  lover  only.  But  I 
don't  cheat,  and  I  don't  lie.  I  am  what 
I  am.  .  .  ." 

"  A  man  ! "  said  Ziska,  a  lurid  and  vin- 
dictive light  dilating  and  firing  her  wonderful 
eyes.  "  A  man  ! — the  essence  of  all  that  is 
evil,  the  possibility  of  all  that  is  good  !  But 
the  essence  is  strong  and  works  ;  the  possi- 
bility is  a  dream  which  dissolves  in  the 
dreaming ! " 

"Yes,  you  are  right,  ma  ch^re  !  "  he  re- 
sponded carelessly.  "  Goodness — as  the 
world  understands  goodness — never  makes 
a  career  for  itself  worth  anything.  Even 
Christ,  who  has  figured  as  a  symbol  of  good- 
ness for  eighteen  hundred  years,  was  not 
devoid  of  the  sin  of  ambition  :  He  wanted  to 
reign  over  all  Judaea." 

"  You  view  Him  in  that  light  ?  "  inquired 
Ziska  with  a  keen  look.  "  And  as  man  only  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  !  The  idea  of  an  incar- 
nate God  has  long  ago  been  discarded  by 
all  reasoning  thinkers." 


268  ZISKA 

"  And  what  of  an  incarnate  devil  ?  "  pur- 
sued Ziska,  her  breath  coming  and  going 
quickly. 

"  As  impossible  as  the  other  fancy !  "  he 
responded  almost  gayly.  "  There  are  no  gods 
and  no  devils,  ma  belle  !  The  world  is  ruled 
by  ourselves  alone,  and  it  behoves  us  to 
make  the  best  of  it.  How  will  you  give  me 
my  answer  to-morrow  ?  When  shall  I  see 
you  ?  Speak  low  and  quickly, — Dr.  Dean  is 
coming  in  here  from  the  garden  :  when — 
when  ? " 

"  I  will  send  for  you,"  she  answered. 

"At  what  hour?" 

"  The  moon  rises  at  ten.  And  at  ten  my 
messenger  shall  come  for  you." 

"  A  trustworthy  messenger,  I  hope  ?  One 
who  knows  how  to  be  silent  ?  " 

"  As  silent  as  the  grave ! "  she  said,  look- 
ing at  him  fixedly.  "  As  secret  as  the  Great 
Pyramid  and  the  hidden  tomb  of  Araxes  !  " 

And  smiling,  she  turned  to  greet  Dr.  Dean, 
who  just  then  entered  the  saloon. 

"Denzil  has  gone  to  bed,"  he  announced. 
"  He  begged  me  to  excuse  him  to  you, 
Princess.  I  think  the  boy  is  feverish.  Egypt 
doesn't  agree  with  him." 

"  I  am  sorry  he  is  ill,"  said  the  Princess 
with  a  charming  air  of  sympathy. 


ZISKA  269 

"Oh,  he  isn't  exactly  ill,"  returned  the 
Doctor,  looking  sharply  at  her  beautiful  face 
as  he  spoke.  "  He  is  simply  unnerved  and 
restless.  I  am  a  little  anxious  about  him. 
I  think  he  ought  to  go  back  to  England — 
or  Scotland." 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  agreed  Gervase.  "  And 
Mademoiselle  Helen  with  him." 

"  Mademoiselle  Helen  you  consider  very 
beautiful?"  murmured  the  Princess,  unfurl- 
ing her  fan  and  waving  it  indolently  to  and 
fro. 

"  No,  not  beautiful,"  answered  the  Doctor 
quickly.  "  But  very  pretty,  sweet  and 
lovable — and  good." 

"  Ah  then,  of  course  some  one  will  break 
her  heart ! "  said  the  Princess  calmly.  "  That 
is  what  always  happens  to  good  women." 

And  she  smiled  as  she  saw  Gervase  flush, 
half  with  anger,  half  with  shame.  The  little 
Doctor  rubbed  his  nose  crossly. 

"  Not  always,  Princess,"  he  said.  "  Some- 
times it  does  ;  in  fact  pretty  often.  It  is  an 
unfortunate  truth  that  virtue  is  seldom  re- 
warded in  this  world.  Virtue  in  a  woman 
nowadays " 

"  Means  no  lovers  and  no  fun  !  "  said  Ger- 
vase gayly.  "  And  the  possibility  of  a  highly 
decorous  marriage  with  a  curate  or  a  bank- 


2/0  ZISKA 

clerk,  followed  by  the  pleasing  result  of  a 
family  of  little  curates  or  little  bank-clerks. 
It  is  not  a  dazzling  prospect !  " 

The  Doctor  smiled  grimly ;  then  after  a 
wavering  moment  of  indecision,  broke  out 
into  a  chuckling  laugh. 

"You  have  an  odd  way  of  putting  things," 
he  said.  "  But  I'm  afraid  you  may  be  right 
in  your  estimate  of  the  position.  Quite  as 
many  women  are  as  miserably  sacrificed  on 
the  altar  of  virtue  as  of  vice.  It  is  *  a  mad 
world/  as  Shakespeare  says.  I  hope  the 
next  life  we  pass  into  after  this  one  will  at 
least  be  sane." 

"  Well,  if  you  believe  in  Heaven,  you  have 
Testament  authority  for  the  fact  that  there 
will  be  '  neither  marriage  nor  giving  in  mar- 
riage '  there,  at  any  rate,"  laughed  Gervase. 
"And  if  we  wish  to  follow  that  text  out 
truly  in  our  present  state  of  existence  and 
become  *  as  the  angels  of  God '  we  ought  at 
once  to  abolish  matrimony." 

"  Have  done  !  Have  done ! "  exclaimed 
the  Doctor,  still  smiling,  however,  notwith- 
standing his  protest.  "  You  Southern 
Frenchmen  are  half  barbarians, — you  have 
neither  religion  nor  morality." 

"  Dieu  merci  !  "  said  Gervase,  irreverently  ; 
then  turning  to  the  Princess  Ziska,  he  bowed 


ZISKA  2/1 

low  and  with  a  courtly  grace  over  the  hand 
she  extended  towards  him  in  farewell. 
"  Good-night,  Princess !  " — then  in  a  whisper 
he  added  :  "  To-morrow  I  shall  await  your 
summons." 

"  It  will  come  without  fail,  never  fear !  " 
she  answered  in  equally  soft  tones.  "  I  hope 
it  may  find  you  ready." 

He  raised  his  eyes  and  gave  her  one 
long,  lingering,  passionate  look  ;  then  with 
another  "  Good-night,"  which  included  Dr. 
Dean,  left  the  room.  The  Doctor  lingered 
a  moment,  studying  the  face  and  form  of 
ihe  Princess  with  a  curiously  inquisitive 
air;  while  she  in  her  turn  confronted  him 
haughtily,  and  with  a  touch  of  defiance  in 
her  aspect. 

"  Well,"  said  the  savant  presently,  after 
a  pause  :  "  Now  you  have  got  him,  what  are 
you  going  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

She  smiled  coldly,  but  answered  nothing. 

"  You  need  not  flash  your  beautiful  eyes 
at  me  in  that  eminently  unpleasant  fashion," 
pursued  the  Doctor,  easily.  "You  see  I 
know  you,  and  I  am  not  afraid  of  you.  I 
only  make  a  stand  against  you  in  one  re- 
spect :  you  shall  not  kill  the  boy  Denzil." 

"  He  is  nothing  to  me  !  "  she  said,  with  a 
gesture  of  contempt. 


2/2  ZISKA 

"  I  know  he  is  nothing  to  you ;  but  you 
are  something  to  him.  He  does  not  recog- 
nize your  nature  as  I  do.  I  must  get  him 
out  of  the  reach  of  your  spell " 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself,"  she  in- 
terrupted him,  a  sombre  melancholy  darken- 
ing her  face ;  "  I  shall  be  gone  to-morrow." 

"  Gone  altogether?"  inquired  the  Doctor 
calmly  and  without  surprise, — "Not  to  come 
back?" 

"  Not  in  this  present  generation !  "  she 
answered. 

Still  Dr.  Dean  evinced  no  surprise. 

"  Then  you  will  have  satisfied  yourself  ?  " 
he  asked. 

She  bent  her  head. 

"  For  the  time  being— yes  !  I  shall  have 
satisfied  myself." 

There  followed  a  silence,  during  which  the 
little  Doctor  looked  at  his  beautiful  com- 
panion with  all  the  meditative  interest  of  a 
scientist  engaged  in  working  out  some  intri- 
cate and  deeply  interesting  problem. 

"  I  suppose  I  may  not  inquire  how  you 
propose  to  obtain  this  satisfaction?  "he  said. 

"  You  may  inquire,  but  you  will  not  be 
answered  !  "  she  retorted,  smiling  darkly. 

"  Your  intentions  are  pitiless  ?  " 

Still  smiling,  she  said  not  a  word. 


ZISKA  273 

"You  are  impenitent  ?  " 

She  remained  silent. 

"  And,  worst  of  all,  you  do  not  desire 
redemption  !  You  are  one  of  those  who  for- 
ever and  ever  cry,  '  Evil,  be  thou  my  good  !  ' 
Thus  for  you,  Christ  died  in  vain  !  " 

A  faint  tremor  ran  through  her,  but  she 
was  still  mute. 

"  So  you  and  creatures  like  you,  must 
have  their  way  in  the  world  until  the  end," 
concluded  the  Doctor,  thoughtfully.  "  And 
if  all  the  philosophers  that  ever  lived  were 
to  pronounce  you  what  you  are,  they  would 
be  disbelieved  and  condemned  as  madmen  ! 
Well,  Princess,  I  am  glad  I  have  never  at 
any  time  crossed  your  path  till  now,  or 
given  you  cause  of  offence  against  me.  We 
part  friends,  I  trust  ?  Good-night !  Fare- 
well ! " 

She  held  out  her  hand.  He  hesitated 
before  taking  it. 

"  Are  you  afraid  ?  "  she  queried  coldly. 
"  It  will  not  harm  you  !  " 

"  I  am  afraid  of  nothing,"  he  said,  at  once 
clasping  the  white  taper  fingers  in  his  own, 
"except  a  bad  conscience." 

"  That  will  never  trouble  you ! "  and  the 
Princess  looked  at  him  full  and  steadily. 
"  There  are  no  dark  corners  in  your  life — no 
18 


274  ZISKA 

mean  side-alleys  and  trap-holes  of  deceit; 
you  have  walked  on  the  open  and  straight 
road.  You  are  a  good  man  and  a  wise  one. 
But  though  you,  in  your  knowledge  of  spirit- 
ual things,  recognize  me  for  what  I  am,  take 
my  advice  and  be  silent  on  the  matter.  The 
world  would  never  believe  the  truth,  even  if 
you  told  it,  for  the  time  is  not  yet  ripe  for 
men  and  women  to  recognize  the  avengers  of 
their  wicked  deeds.  They  are  kept  pur- 
posely in  the  dark  lest  the  light  should  kill ! " 
And  with  her  sombre  eyes  darkening,  yet 
glowing  with  the  inward  fire  that  always 
smouldered  in  their  dazzling  depths,  she 
saluted  him  gravely  and  gracefully,  watching 
him  to  the  last  as  he  slowly  withdrew. 


ZISKA  275 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  next  day  broke  with  a  bright,  hot 
glare  over  the  wide  desert,  and  the  sky  in  its 
cloudless  burning  blue  had  more  than  its 
usual  appearance  of  limitless  and  awful 
immensity.  The  Sphinx  and  the  Pyramids 
alone  gave  a  shadow  and  a  substance  to  the 
dazzling  and  transparent  air, — all  the  rest  of 
the  visible  landscape  seemed  naught  save 
a  far-stretching  ocean  of  glittering  sand, 
scorched  by  the  blazing  sun.  Dr.  Maxwell 
Dean  rose  early  and  went  down  to  the  hotel 
breakfast  in  a  somewhat  depressed  frame  of 
mind  ;  he  had  slept  badly,  and  his  dreams  had 
been  unpleasant,  when  not  actually  ghastly, 
and  he  was  considerably  relieved,  though  he 
could  not  have  told  why,  when  he  saw  his 
young  friend  Denzil  Murray,  seated  at  the 
breakfast  table,  apparently  enjoying  an  ex- 
cellent meal. 

"  Hullo,  Denzil ! "  he  exclaimed  cheerily, 
"  I  hardly  expected  you  down  yet.  Are 
you  better  ?  " 


276  ZISKA 

"  Thanks,  I  am  perfectly  well,"  said  Denzil, 
with  a  careless  air.  I  thought  I  would  break- 
fast early  in  order  to  drive  into  Cairo  before 
the  day  gets  too  sultry." 

"  Into  Cairo  !  "  echoed  the  Doctor.  "  Why, 
aren't  you  going  to  stay  here  a  few  days  ?  " 

"  No,  not  exactly,"  answered  Denzil,  stir- 
ring his  coffee  quickly  and  beginning  to 
swallow  it  in  large  gulps.  "  I  shall  be  back 
to-night,  though.  I'm  only  going  just  to  see 
my  sister  and  tell  her  to  prepare  for  our 
journey  home.  I  shan't  be  absent  more  than 
a  few  hours." 

"  I  thought  you  might  possibly  like  to  go 
a  little  further  up  the  Nile?"  suggested  the 
Doctor. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  've  had  enough  of  it !  You  see, 
when  a  man  proposes  to  a  woman  and  gets 
refused,  he  can't  keep  on  dangling  round  that 
woman  as  if  he  thought  it  possible  she  might 
change  her  mind."  And  he  forced  a  smile. 
"I've  got  an  appointment  with  Gervase 
to-morrow  morning,  and  I  must  come  back 
to-night  in  order  to  keep  it — but  after  that 
I'm  off." 

"  An  appointment  with  Gervase  ?  "  re- 
peated the  Doctor,  slowly.  "  What  sort  of 
an  appointment?  " 

Denzil  avoided  his  keen  look. 


ZISKA  2/7 

"  Really,  Doctor,  you  are  getting  awfully 
inquisitive  !  "he  exclaimed  with  a  hard  laugh. 
"  You  want  to  know  altogether  too  much  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  always  do  ;  it  is  a  habit  of  mine," 
responded  Dr.  Dean,  calmly.  "  But  in  the 
present  case,  it  doesn't  need  much  perspicuity 
to  fathom  your  mystery.  The  dullest  clod- 
hopper will  tell  you  he  can  see  through  a 
millstone  when  there's  a  hole  in  it.  And  I 
was  always  a  good  hand  at  putting  two  and 
two  together  and  making  four  out  of  them. 
You  and  Gervase  are  in  love  with  the  same 
woman  ;  the  woman  has  rejected  you  and  is 
encouraging  Gervase ;  Gervase,  you  think, 
will  on  this  very  night  be  in  the  position  of 
the  accepted  lover,  for  which  successful  for- 
tune attending  him,  you,  the  rejected  one, 
propose  to  kill  him  to-morrow  morning  if  you 
can,  unless  he  kills  you.  And  you  are  going 
to  Cairo  to  get  your  pistols  or  whatever 
weapons  you  have  arranged  to  fight  with, 
and  also  to  say  good-bye  to  your  sister." 

Denzil  kept  his  eyes  fixed  studiously  on 
the  table-cloth  and  made  no  answer. 

"  However,"  continued  the  Doctor  com- 
placently, "  you  can  have  it  all  your  own 
way  as  far  as  I  am  concerned.  I  never  inter- 
fere in  these  sort  of  matters.  I  should  do  no 
good  if  I  attempted  it.  Besides,  I  haven't 


278  ZISKA 

the  slightest  anxiety  on  your  behalf — not 
the  slightest.  Waiter,  some  more  coffee, 
please  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  word  !  "  exclaimed  Denzil, 
with  a  fretful  laugh,  "  you  are  a  most  ex- 
traordinary man,  Doctor !  " 

"  I  hope  I  am  !  "  retorted  the  Doctor. 
"  To  be  merely  ordinary  would  not  suit  my 
line  of  ambition.  This  is  very  excellent 
coffee  " — here  he  peered  into  the  fresh  pot 
of  the  fragrant  beverage  just  set  before  him. 
"  They  make  it  better  here  than  at  the  Gezireh 
Palace.  Well,  Denzil,  my  boy,  when  you  get 
into  Cairo,  give  my  love  to  Helen  and  tell 
her  we'll  all  go  home  to  the  old  country 
together ;  I,  myself,  have  got  quite  enough 
out  of  Egypt  this  time  to  satisfy  my  fondness 
for  new  experiences.  And  let  me  assure  you, 
my  good  fellow,  that  your  proposed  duel  with 
Gervase  will  not  come  off  !  " 

"  It  will  come  off !  "  said  Denzil,  with 
sudden  fierceness.  "  By  Heaven,  it  shall ! — 
it  must !  " 

"  More  wills  than  one  have  the  working 
out  of  our  destinies,"  answered  Dr.  Dean 
with  some  gravity.  "  Man  is  not  by  any 
means  supreme.  He  imagines  he  is,  but  that 
is  only  one  of  his  many  little  delusions.  You 
think  you  will  have  your  way  ;  Gervase  thinks 


ZISKA  279 

he  will  have  his  way  ;  I  think  I  will  have  my 
way  ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  is  only 
one  person  in  this  affair  whose  *  way '  will 
be  absolute,  and  that  person  is  the  Princess 
Ziska.  Ce  que  femme  veut  Dieu  veut" 

"  She  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the 
matter,"  declared  Denzil. 

"  Pardon  !  She  has  everything  to  do  with 
it.  She  is  the  cause  of  it  and  she  knows  it. 
And  as  I  have  already  told  you,  your  pro- 
posed fight  will  not  come  off."  And  the 
little  Doctor  smiled  serenely.  "  There  is 
your  carriage  at  the  door,  I  suppose.  Off 
with  you,  my  boy  ! — be  off  like  a  whirlwind, 
and  return  here  armed  to  the  teeth  if  you 
like  !  You  have  heard  the  expression  '  fight- 
ing the  air'  ?  That  is  what  you  will  do  to- 
morrow morning  ! " 

And  apparently  in  the  best  of  all  possible 
humors,  Dr.  Dean  accompanied  his  young 
friend  to  the  portico  of  the  hotel  and  watched 
him  drive  off  down  the  stately  avenue  of 
palm-trees  which  now  cast  their  refreshing 
shade  on  the  entire  route  from  the  Pyramids 
to  Cairo.  When  he  had  fairly  gone,  the 
thoughtful  savant  surveyed  the  different 
tourists  who  were  preparing  to  ascend  the 
Pyramids  under  the  escort  of  their  Arab 
guides,  regardless  of  the  risks  they  ran  of 


28O  ZISKA 

dislocated  arms  and  broken  shoulder-bones, 
— and  in  the  study  of  the  various  odd  types 
thus  presented  to  him,  he  found  himself  fairly 
well  amused, 

"  Protoplasm  —  mere  protoplasm  !  "  he 
murmured.  "  The  germ  of  soul  has  not  yet 
attained  to  individual  consciousness  in  any 
one  of  these  strange  bipeds.  Their  thoughts 
are  as  jelly, — their  reasoning  powers  in  em- 
bryo,— their  intellectual  faculties  barely  per- 
ceptible. Yet  they  are  interesting,  viewed  in 
the  same  light  and  considered  on  the  same 
scale  as  fish  or  insects  merely.  As  men  and 
women  of  course  they  are  misnomers, — laugh- 
able impossibilities.  Well,  well ! — in  the 
space  of  two  or  three  thousand  years,  the  pro- 
toplasm may  start  into  form  out  of  the  void, 
and  the  fibres  of  a  conscious  Intellectuality 
may  sprout, — but  it  will  have  to  be  in  some 
other  phase  of  existence — certainly  not  in 
this  one.  And  now  to  shut  myself  up  and 
write  my  memoranda — for  I  must  not  lose  a 
single  detail  of  this  singular  Egyptian  psychic 
problem.  The  whole  thing  I  perceive  is 
rounding  itself  towards  completion  and  ca- 
tastrophe— but  in  what  way  ?  How  will 
it — how  can  it  end  ?  " 

And  with  a  meditative  frown  puckering 
his  brows,  Dr.  Dean  folded  his  hands  behind 


ZISKA.  28l 

his  back  and  retired  to  his  own  room,  from 
whence  he  did  not  emerge  all  day. 

Armand  Gervase  in  the  meanwhile  was 
making  himself  the  life  and  soul  of  every- 
thing at  the  Mena  House  Hotel.  He  struck 
up  an  easy  acquaintance  with  several  of  the 
visitors  staying  there, — said  pretty  things  to 
young  women  and  pleasant  things  to  old, — 
and  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours  succeeded 
in  becoming  the  most  popular  personage  in 
the  place.  He  accepted  invitations  to  par- 
ties, and  agreed  to  share  in  various*  excur- 
sions, till  he  engaged  himself  for  every  day 
in  the  coming  week,  and  was  so  gay  and 
gallant  and  fascinating  in  manner  and  bear- 
ing that  fair  ladies  lost  their  hearts  to  him 
at  a  glance,  and  what  amusement  or  pleas- 
ure there  was  at  the  Mena  House  seemed 
to  be  doubly  enhanced  by  the  mere  fact  of 
his  presence.  In  truth  Gervase  was  in 
a  singular  mood  of  elation  and  excitation  ;  a 
strong  inward  triumph  possessed  him  and 
filled  his  soul  with  an  imperious  pride  and 
sense  of  conquest  which,  for  the  time  being, 
made  him  feel  as  though  he  were  a  very 
king  of  men.  There  was  nothing  in  his 
nature  of  the  noble  tenderness  which  makes 
the  lover  mentally  exalt  his  beloved  as  a 
queen  before  whom  he  is  content  to  sub- 


282  ZISKA 

mit  his  whole  soul  in  worship ;  what  he 
realized  was  merely  this :  that  here  was  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  seductive  women 
ever  created,  in  the  person  of  the  Princess 
Ziska,  and  that  he,  Gervase,  meant  to  pos- 
sess that  loveliest  of  women,  whatever  hap- 
pened in  the  near  or  distant  future.  Of 
her,  and  of  the  influence  of  his  passion  on 
her  personally,  he  did  not  stop  to  think, 
except  with  the  curiously  blind  egotism 
which  is  the  heritage  of  most  men,  and 
which  led  him  to  judge  that  her  happiness 
would  in  some  way  or  other  be  enhanced 
by  his  brief  and  fickle  love.  For,  as  a  rule, 
men  do  not  understand  love.  They  under- 
stand desire,  amounting  sometimes  to  mer- 
ciless covetousness  for  what  they  cannot 
get, — this  is  a  leading  natural  characteristic 
of  the  masculine  nature — but  Love — love 
that  endures  silently  and  faithfully  through 
the  stress  of  trouble  and  the  passing  of 
years — love  which  sacrifices  everything  to 
the  beloved  and  never  changes  or  falters, — 
this  is  a  divine  passion  which  seldom  or 
never  sanctifies  and  inspires  the  life  of  a 
man.  Women  are  not  made  of  such  base 
material ;  their  love  invariably  springs  first 
from  the  Ideal,  not  the  Sensual,  and  if  after- 
wards it  develops  into  the  sensual,  it  is 


ZISKA  283 

through  the  rough  and  coarsening  touch  of 
man  alone. 

Throughout  the  entire  day  the  Princess 
Ziska  herself  never  left  her  private  apart- 
ments, and  towards  late  afternoon  Gervase 
began  to  feel  the  hours  drag  along  with 
unconscionable  slowness  and  monotony. 
Never  did  the  sun  seem  so  slow  in  sinking ; 
never  did  the  night  appear  so  far  off.  When 
at  last  dinner  was  served  in  the  hotel,  both 
Denzil  Murray  and  Dr.  Dean  sat  next  to 
him  at  table,  and,  judging  from  outward 
appearances,  the  most  friendly  relations  ex- 
isted between  all  three  of  them.  At  the 
close  of  the  meal,  however,  Denzil  made  a 
sign  to  Gervase  to  follow  him,  and  when 
they  had  reached  a  quiet  corner,  said : 

"  I  am  aware  of  your  victory ;  you  have 
won  where  I  have  lost.  But  you  know  my 
intention?  " 

"  Perfectly  ! "  responded  Gervase,  with  a 
cool  smile. 

"  By  Heaven  !  "  went  on  the  younger  man, 
in  accents  of  suppressed  fury,  "  if  I  yielded 
to  the  temptation  which  besets  me  when  I 
see  you  standing  there  facing  me,  with  your 
easy  and  self-satisfied  demeanor, — when  I 
know  that  you  mean  dishonor  where  I  meant 
honor, — when  you  have  had  the  effrontery 


284  ZISKA 

to  confess  to  me  that  you  only  intend  to 
make  the  Princess  Ziska  your  mistress  when 
I  would  have  made  her  my  wife, — God !  I 
could  shoot  you  dead  at  this  moment !  " 

Gervase  looked  at  him  steadily,  still  smil- 
ing slightly ;  then  gradually  the  smile  died 
away,  leaving  his  countenance  shadowed  by 
an  intense  melancholy. 

"  I  can  quite  enter  into  your  feelings,  my 
dear  boy  !  "  he  said.  "  And  do  you  know, 
I'm  not  sure  that  it  would  not  be  a  good 
thing  if  you  were  to  shoot  me  dead !  My 
life  is  of  no  particular  value  to  anybody, — 
certainly  not  to  myself ;  and  I  begin  to  think 
I've  been  always  more  or  less  of  a  failure. 
I  have  won  fame,  but  I  have  missed — some- 
thing— but  upon  my  word,  I  don't  quite 
know  what ! " 

He  sighed  heavily,  then  suddenly  held 
out  his  hand. 

"  Denzil,  the  bitterest  foes  shake  hands 
before  fighting  each  other  to  the  death,  as 
we  propose  to  do  to-morrow;  it  is  a  civil 
custom  and  hurts  no  one.  I  should  like  to 
part  kindly  from  you  to-night !  " 

Denzil  hesitated ;  then  something  stronger 
than  himself  made  him  yield  to  the  impulsive 
note  of  strong  emotion  in  his  former  friend's 
voice,  and  the  two  men's  hands  met  in  a 


ZISKA  285 

momentary  silent  grasp.  Then  Denzil  turned 
quickly  away. 

"  To-morrow  morning  at  six,"  he  said, 
briefly  ;  "  close  to  the  Sphinx." 

"  Good  ! "  responded  Gervase.  "  The 
Sphinx  shall  second  us  both  and  see  fair 
play.  Good-night,  Denzil !  " 

"  Good-night !  "  responded  Denzil,  coldly, 
as  he  moved  on  and  disappeared. 

A  slight  shiver  ran  through  Gervase's 
blood  as  he  watched  him  depart. 

"  Odd  that  I  should  imagine  I  have  seen 
the  last  of  him  ! "  he  murmured.  "  There 
are  strange  portents  in  the  air  of  the  desert, 
I  suppose  !  Is  he  going  to  his  death  ?  Or 
am  I  going  to  mine?  " 

Again  the  cold  tremor  shook  him,  and 
combating  with  his  uneasy  sensations,  he 
went  to  his  own  apartment,  there  to  await 
the  expected  summons  of  the  Princess.  No 
triumph  filled  him  now ;  no  sense  of  joy 
elated  him  ;  a  vague  fear  and  dull  forebod- 
ing were  all  the  emotions  he  was  conscious 
of.  Even  his  impatient  desire  of  love  had 
cooled,  and  he  watched  the  darkening  of 
night  over  the  desert,  and  the  stars  shining  out 
one  by  one  in  the  black  azure  of  the  heavens, 
with  a  gradually  deepening  depression.  A 
dreamy  sense  stole  over  him  of  remoteness 


286  ZISKA 

or  detachment  from  all  visible  things,  as 
though  he  were  suddenly  and  mysteriously 
separated  from  the  rest  of  humankind  by 
an  invisible  force  which  he  was  powerless  to 
resist.  He  was  still  lost  in  this  vague  half- 
torpor  or  semi-conscious  reverie,  when  a 
light  tap  startled  him  back  to  the  realization 
of  earth  and  his  earthly  surroundings.  In 
response  to  his  "  Entrez  !  "  the  tall  Nubian, 
whom  he  had  seen  in  Cairo  as  the  guardian 
of  the  Princess's  household,  appeared,  his 
repulsive  features  looking,  if  anything,  more 
ghastly  and  hideous  than  ever. 

"  Madame  la  Princesse  demande  votre 
presence  !  "  said  this  unlovely  attendant  of 
one  of  the  fairest  of  women.  "  Suivez-moi  !  " 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  or  loss 
of  time,  Gervase  obeyed,  and  allowing  his 
guide  to  precede  him  at  a  little  distance, 
followed  him  through  the  corridors  of  the 
hotel,  out  at  the  hall  door  and  beyond, 
through  the  garden.  A  clock  struck  ten  as 
they  passed  into  the  warm  evening  air,  and 
the  mellow  rays  of  the  moon  were  beginning 
to  whiten  the  sides  of  the  Great  Pyramid. 
A  few  of  the  people  staying  in  the  hotel 
were  lounging  about,  but  these  paid  no  partic- 
ular heed  to  Gervase  or  his  companion.  At 
about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  entrance 


ZISKA  287 

of  the  Mena  House,  the  Nubian  stopped  and 
waited  till  Gervase  came  up  with  him. 

"  Madame  la  Princcsse  vous  aime,  Monsieur 
Gervase!"  he  said,  with  a  sarcastic  grin. 
'•'Mais, — elle  veut  que V Amour  soit  toujours 
aveugle  !  oui,  toujours  !  C'est  le  destin  qui 
vous  appelle, — il  faut  soumettre  !  U  Amour 
sans  yeux  !  oui  ! — en  fin, — comme  ga  !  " 

And  before  Gervase  could  utter  a  word 
of  protest,  or  demand  the  meaning  of  this 
strange  proceeding,  his  arms  was  suddenly 
seized  and  pinioned  behind  his  back,  his 
mouth  gagged,  and  his  eyes  blindfolded. 

M"aintenant"  continued  the  Nubian. 
"  Nous  irons  ensemble  !  " 

Choked  and  mad  with  rage,  Gervase  for  a 
few  moments  struggled  furiously  as  well  as 
he  was  able  with  his  powerful  captor.  All 
sorts  of  ideas  surged  in  his  brain :  the  Prin- 
cess Ziska  might,  with  all  her  beauty  and 
fascination,  be  nothing  but  the  ruler  of  a  band 
of  robbers  and  murderers — who  could  tell  ? 
Yet  reason  did  not  wholly  desert  him  in  ex- 
tremity, for  even  while  he  tried  to  fight  for 
his  liberty  he  remembered  that  there  was  no 
good  to  be  gained  out  of  takinghim  prisoner ; 
he  had  neither  money  nor  valuables — nothing 
which  could  excite  the  cupidity  of  even  a 
starving  Bedouin.  As  this  thought  crossed 


288  ZISKA 

his  brain,  he  ceased  his  struggles  abruptly, 
and  stood  still,  panting  for  breath,  when 
suddenly  a  sound  of  singing  floated  towards 
him: 

"  Oh,  for  the  pure  cold  heart  of  the  Lotus-Lily  ! 

A  star  above 

Is  its  only  love, 

And  one  brief  sigh  of  its  scented  breath 
Is  all  it  will  ever  know  of  Death  ! 
Oh,  for  the  passionless  heart  of  the  Lotus-Lily  !  " 

He  listened,  and  all  power  of  resistance 
ebbed  slowly  away  from  him ;  he  became 
perfectly  passive — almost  apathetic — and 
yielding  to  the  somewhat  rough  handling  of 
his  guide,  allowed  himself  to  be  urged  with 
silent  rapidity  onward  over  the  thick  sand, 
till  he  presently  became  conscious  that  he 
was  leaving  the  fresh  open  air  and  entering 
a  building  of  some  sort,  for  his  feet  pressed 
hard  earth  and  stone  instead  of  sand.  All 
at  once  he  was  forcibly  brought  to  a  stand- 
still, and  a  heavy  rolling  noise  and  clang, 
like  distant  muttered  thunder,  resounded  in 
his  ears,  followed  by  dead  silence.  Then 
his  arm  was  closely  grasped  again,  and  he 
was  led  on,  on  and  on,  along  what  seemed 
to  be  an  interminable  distance,  for  not  a 
glimmer  of  light  could  be  seen  under  the 
tight  folds  of  the  bandage  across  his  eyes. 


ZISKA  289 

Presently  the  earth  shook  under  him, — 
some  heavy  substance  was  moved,  and  there 
was  another  booming  thunderous  noise,  ac- 
companied by  the  falling  of  chains. 

"  Cest  Vescalier  de  Madame  la  Princesse  !  " 
said  the  Nubian.  "  Prts  de  la  chambre 
nuptiale  !  Descendez  !  Vite  !  " 

Down — down  !  Resistance  was  useless, 
even  had  he  cared  to  resist,  for  he  felt  as 
though  twenty  pairs  of  hands  instead  of  one 
were  pushing  him  violently  on  all  sides ; 
down,  still  down  he  went,  dumb,  blind  and 
helpless,  till  at  last  he  was  allowed  to  stop 
and  breathe.  His  arms  were  released,  the 
bandage  was  taken  from  his  eyes,  the  gag 
from  his  mouth — he  was  free !  Free — yes  ! 
but  where  ?  Thick  darkness  encompassed 
him ;  he  stretched  out  his  hands  in  the  murky 
atmosphere  and  felt  nothing. 

"  Ziska  !  "  he  cried. 

The  name  sprang  up  against  the  silence 
and  struck  out  numberless  echoes,  and  with 
the  echoes  came  a  shuddering  sigh,  that  was 
not  of  them,  whispering  : 

"  Charmazel  !  " 

Gervase  heard  it,  and  a  deadly  fear,  born 
of  the  supernatural,  possessed  him. 

"  Ziska  !  Ziska  !  "  he  called  again  wildly. 

"  Charmazel !  "  answered  the  penetrating 


2QO  ZISKA 

unknown  voice  ;  and  as  it  thrilled  upon  the 
air  like  a  sob  of  pain,  a  dim  light  began  to 
shine  through  the  gloom,  waveringly  at  first, 
then  more  steadily,  till  it  gradually  spread 
wide,  illuminating  with  a  pale  and  spectral 
light  the  place  in  which  he  found  himself, — 
a  place  more  weird  and  wondrous  than  any 
mystic  scene  in  dream-land.  He  stumbled 
forward  giddily,  utterly  bewildered,  staring 
about  him  like  a  man  in  delirium,  and  speech- 
less with  mingled  horror  and  amazement. 
He  was  alone — utterly  alone  in  a  vast  square 
chamber,  the  walls  and  roof  of  which  were 
thickly  patterned  and  glistening  with  gold. 
Squares  of  gold  were  set  in  the  very  pave- 
ment on  which  he  trod,  and  at  the  furthest 
end  of  the  chamber,  a  magnificent  sarco- 
phagus of  solid  gold,  encrusted  with  thous- 
ands upon  thousands  of  jewels,  which  were 
set  upon  it  in  marvellous  and  fantastic  devices, 
glittered  and  flashed  with  the  hues  of  living 
fire.  Golden  cups,  golden  vases,  a  golden 
suit  of  armor,  bracelets  and  chains  of  gold 
intermixed  with  gems,  were  heaped  up 
against  the  walls  and  scattered  on  the  floor ; 
and  a  round  shield  of  ivory  inlaid  with  gold, 
together  with  a  sword  in  a  jewelled  sheath, 
were  placed  in  an  upright  position  against 
the  head  of  the  sarcophagus,  from  whence 


ZISKA  291 

all  the  spectral  and  mysterious  light  seemed 
to  emerge.  With  thickly  beating  heart  and 
faltering  pulses  Gervase  still  advanced, 
gazing  half  entranced,  half  terrified  at  the 
extraordinary  and  sumptuous  splendor 
surrounding  him,  muttering  almost  uncon- 
sciously as  he  moved  along  : 

"  A  king's  sepulchre, — a  warrior's  tomb  ! 
How  came  I  here  ? — and  why  ?  Is  this  a 
trysting-place  for  love  as  well  as  death? — 
and  will  she  come  to  me  ?  ..." 

He  recoiled  suddenly  with  a  violent  start, 
for  there,  like  a  strange  Spirit  of  Evil  risen 
from  the  ground,  leaning  against  the  great 
gold  sarcophagus,  her  exquisite  form  scarcely 
concealed  by  the  misty  white  of  her  draper- 
ies, her  dark  hair  hanging  like  a  cloud  over 
her  shoulders,  and  her  black  eyes  aflame  with 
wrath,  menace  and  passion,  stood  the  mys- 
terious Ziska ! 


292  ZISEA 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

STRICKEN  dumb  with  a  ghastly  super- 
natural terror  which  far  exceeded  any  or- 
dinary sense  of  fear,  he  gazed  at  her,  spell- 
bound, his  blood  freezing,  his  very  limbs 
stiffening,  for  now — now  she  looked  like  the 
picture  he  had  painted  of  her  ;  and  Death — 
Death,  livid,  tortured  and  horrible,  stared 
at  him  skull-wise  from  the  transparent  cover- 
ing of  her  exquisitely  tinted  seeming-human 
flesh.  Larger  and  brighter  and  wilder  grew 
her  eyes  as  she  fixed  them  on  him,  and  her 
voice  rang  through  the  silence  with  an  un- 
earthly resonance  as  she  spoke  and  said : 

"  Welcome,  my  lover,  to  this  abode  of 
love!  Welcome  to  these  arms,  for  whose 
embraces  your  covetous  soul  has  thirsted  un- 
appeased  !  Take  all  of  me,  for  I  am  yours ! 
— aye,  so  truly  yours  that  you  can  never 
escape  me  ! — never  separate  from  me — no  ! 
not  through  a  thousand  thousand  centuries ! 
Life  of  my  life  !  Soul  of  my  soul !  Possess 
me,  as  I  possess  you  ! — for  our  two  unre- 


ZISKA  293 

penting  spirits  form  a  dual  flame  in  Hell 
which  must  burn  on  and  on  to  all  eternity ! 
Leap  to  my  arms,  master  and  lord, — king 
and  conqueror !  Here,  here ! "  and  she 
smote  her  white  arms  against  her  whiter 
bosom.  "  Take  all  your  fill  of  burning 
wickedness — of  cursed  joy  !  and  then — sleep ! 
as  you  have  slept  before,  these  many  thou- 
sand years ! " 

Still  mute  and  aghast  he  stared  at  her ; 
his  senses  swam,  his  brain  reeled,  and  then 
slowly,  like  the  lifting  of  a  curtain  on  the 
last  scene  of  a  dire  tragedy,  a  lightning 
thought,  a  scorching  memory,  sprang  into 
his  mind  and  overwhelmed  him  like  a  roll- 
ing wave  that  brings  death  in  its  track. 
With  a  fierce  oath  he  rushed  towards  her, 
and  seized  her  hands  in  his — hands  cold  as 
ice  and  clammy  as  with  the  dews  of  the 
grave. 

"Ziska!  Woman!  Devil!  Speak  before 
you  drive  me  to  madness  !  What  passion 
moves  you  thus — what  mystic  fooling?  In- 
to what  place  have  I  been  decoyed  at  your 
bidding?  Why  am  I  brought  hither? 
Speak,  speak ! — or  I  shall  murder  you  !  " 

"  Nay  !  "  she  said,  and  her  slight  swaying 
form  dilated  and  grew  till  she  seemed  to  rise 
up  from  the  very  ground  and  to  tower  above 


2Q4  ZISKA 

him  like  an  enraged  demon  evoked  from 
mist  or  flame.  "  You  have  done  that  once  ! 
To  murder  me  twice  is  beyond  your  power  !  " 
And  as  she  spoke  her  hands  slipped  from 
his  like  the  hands  of  a  corpse  newly  dead. 
"Never  again  can  you  hurl  forth  my  an- 
guished soul  unprepared  to  the  outer  dark- 
ness of  things  invisible  ;  never  again  !  For 
I  am  free ! — free  with  an  immortal  freedom — 
free  to  work  out  repentance  or  revenge, — 
even  as  Man  is  free  to  shape  his  course  for 
good  or  evil.  He  chooses  evil ;  I  choose 
revenge  !  What  place  is  this,  you  ask  ?  " 
and  with  a  majestic  gliding  motion  she  ad- 
vanced a  little  and  pointed  upward  to  the 
sparkling  gold-patterned  roof.  "  Above  us, 
the  Great  Pyramid  lifts  its  summit  to  the 
stars  ;  and  here  below, — here  where  you  will 
presently  lie,  my  lover  and  lord,  asleep  in 
the  delicate  bosom  of  love — -here.  .  .  ." 

She  paused,  and  a  low  laugh  broke  from 
her  lips  ;  then  she  added  slowly  and  impres- 
sively : 

"  Here  is  the  tomb  of  Araxes !  " 
As  she  spoke,  a  creeping  sense  of  coldness 
and  horror  stole  into  his  veins  like  the  ap- 
proach of  death, — the  strange  impressions 
he  had  felt,  the  haunting  and  confusing 
memory  he  had  always  had  of  her  face  and 


ZISKA  295 

voice,  the  supernatural  theories  he  had  lately 
heard  discussed,  all  rushed  at  once  upon  his 
mind,  and  he  uttered  a  loud  involuntary  cry. 

"  My  God  !  What  frenzy  is  this !  A 
woman's  vain  trick  ! — a  fool's  mad  scheme  ! 
What  is  Araxes  to  me  ? — or  I  to  Araxes  ?  " 

"  Everything  !  "  replied  Ziska,  the  vindic- 
tive demon  light  in  her  eyes  blazing  with  a 
truly  frightful  intensity.  "  Inasmuch  as  ye 
are  one  and  the  same  !  The  same  dark  soul 
of  sin — unpurged,  uncleansed  through  ages 
of  eternal  fire !  Sensualist !  Voluptuary  ! 
Accursed  spirit  of  the  man  I  loved,  come 
forth  from  the  present  Seeming-of-things ! 
Come  forth  and  cling  to  me !  Cling  ! — for 
the  whole  forces  of  a  million  universes  shall 
not  separate  us  !  O  Eternal  Spirits  of  the 
Dead  ! "  and  she  lifted  her  ghostly  white 
arms  with  a  wild  gesture.  "  Rend  ye  the 
veil !  Declare  to  the  infidel  and  unbeliever 
the  truth  of  the  life  beyond  death  ;  the  life 
wherein  ye  and  I  dwell  and  work,  clamoring 
for  late  justice  !  " 

Here  she  sprang  forward  and  caught  the 
arm  of  Gervase  with  all  the  fierce  eagerness 
of  some  ravenous  bird  of  prey  ;  and  as  she 
did  so  he  knew  her  grasp  meant  death. 

"  Remember  the  days  of  old,  Araxes ! 
Look  back,  look  back  from  the  present  to 


296  ZISKA 

the  past,  and  remember  the  crimes  that  are 
still  unavenged !  Remember  the  love  sought 
and  won  ! — remember  the  broken  heart ! — 
remember  the  ruined  life  !  Remember  the 
triumphs  of  war ! — the  glories  of  conquest ! 
Remember  the  lust  of  ambition  ! — the  treach- 
ery ! — the  slaughter ! — the  blasphemies 
against  high  Heaven  !  Remember  the  night 
of  the  Feast  of  Osiris — the  Feast  of  the  Sun  ! 
Remember  how  Ziska-Charmazel  awaited  her 
lover,  singing  alone  for  joy,  in  blind  faith 
and  blinder  love,  his  favorite  song  of  the 
Lotus-Lily!  The  moon  was  high,  as  it  is 
now! — the  stars  glittered  above  the  Pyra- 
mids, as  they  glitter  now! — in  the  palace 
there  was  the  sound  of  music  and  triumph 
and  laughter,  and  a  whisper  on  the  air  of  the 
fickle  heart  and  changeful  mood  of  Araxes ; 
of  another  face  which  charmed  him,  though 
less  fair  than  that  of  Ziska-Charmazel !  Re- 
member, remember  !  "  and  she  clung  closer 
and  closer  as  he  staggered  backward  half 
suffocated  by  his  own  emotions  and  the  hor- 
ror of  her  touch.  "Remember  the  fierce 
word  ! — the  quick  and  murderous  blow  ! — 
the  plunge  of  the  jewelled  knife  up  to  the 
hilt  in  the  passionate  white  bosom  of  Char- 
mazel ! — the  lonely  anguish  in  which  she 
died !  Died, — but  to  live  again  and  pursue 


ZISKA  297 

her  murderer ! — to  track  him  down  to  his 
grave  wherein  the  king  strewed  gold,  and 
devils  strewed  curses ! — down,  down  to  the 
end  of  all  his  glory  and  conquest  into  the 
silence  of  yon  gold-encrusted  clay!  And 
out  of  silence  again  into  sound  and  light  and 
fire,  ever  pursuing,  I  have  followed — followed 
through  a  thousand  phases  of  existence  ! — 
and  I  will  follow  still  through  limitless  space 
and  endless  time,  till  the  great  Maker  of  this 
terrible  wheel  of  life  Himself  shall  say, 
'  Stop !  Here  ends  even  the  law  of  venge- 
ance ! '  Oh,  for  ten  thousand  centuries 
more  in  which  to  work  my  passion  and  prove 
my  wrong !  All  the  treasure  of  love  de- 
spised ! — all  the  hope  of  a  life  betrayed  ! — all 
the  salvation  of  heaven  denied  !  Tremble, 
Soul  of  Araxes  ! — for  hate  is  eternal,  as  love 
is  eternal ! — the  veil  is  down,  and  Memory 
stings !  " 

She  turned  her  face,  now  spectral  and 
pallid  as  a  waning  moon,  up  to  him  ;  her 
form  grew  thin  and  skeleton-like,  while 
still  retaining  the  transparent  outline  of  its 
beauty  ;  and  he  realized  at  last  that  no  crea- 
ture of  flesh  and  blood  was  this  that  clung 
to  him,  but  some  mysterious  bodiless  horror 
of  the  Supernatural,  unguessed  at  by  the  out- 
er world  of  men  !  The  dews  of  death  stood 


298  ZISKA 

thick  on  his  forehead ;  there  was  a  straining 
agony  at  his  heart,  and  his  breath  came  in 
quick  convulsive  gasps ;  but  worse  than  his 
physical  torture  was  the  overwhelming  and 
convincing  truth  of  the  actual  existence  of 
the  Spiritual  Universe,  now  so  suddenly  and 
awfully  revealed.  What  he  had  all  his  life 
denied  was  now  declared  a  certainty  ;  where 
he  had  been  deaf  and  blind,  he  now  heard 
and  saw.  Ziska !  Ziska-Charmazel !  In 
very  truth  he  knew  he  remembered  her ;  in 
very  truth  he  knew  he  had  loved  her  ;  in  very 
truth  he  knew  he  had  murdered  her !  But 
another  still  stranger  truth  was  forcing  itself 
upon  him  now ;  and  this  was,  that  the  old  love 
of  the  old  old  days  was  arising  within  him  in 
all  its  strength  once  more,  and  that  he  loved 
her  still !  Unreal  and  terrible  as  it  seemed,  it 
was  nevertheless  a  fact,  that  as  he  gazed  upon 
her  tortured  face,  her  beautiful  anguished 
eyes,  her  phantom  form,  he  felt  that  he  would 
give  his  own  soul  to  rescue  hers  and  lift  her 
from  the  coils  of  vengeance  into  love  again ! 
Her  words  awoke  vibrating  pulsations  of 
thought,  long  dormant  in  the  innermost  re- 
cesses of  his  spirit,  which,  like  so  many  dag- 
ger-thrusts, stabbed  him  with  a  myriad  rec- 
ollections ;  and  as  a  disguising  cloak  may 
fall  from  the  figure  of  a  friend  in  a  masquer- 


ZISKA  299 

ade,  so  his  present-seeming  personality 
dropped  from  him  and  no  longer  had  any 
substance.  He  recognized  himself  as  Araxes 
— always  the  same  Soul  passing  through 
a  myriad  changes, — and  all  the  links  of  his 
past  and  present  were  suddenly  welded  to- 
gether in  one  unbroken  chain,  stretching 
over  thousands  of  years,  every  link  of  which 
he  was  able  to  count,  mark,  and  recognize. 
By  the  dreadful  light  of  that  dumb  compre- 
hension which  flashes  on  all  parting  souls  at 
the  moment  of  dissolution,  he  perceived  at 
last  that  not  the  Body  but  the  Spirit  is  the 
central  secret  of  life, — not  deeds,  but  thoughts 
evolve  creation.  Death  ?  That  was  a  name 
merely  ;  there  was  no  death, — only  a  change 
into  some  other  form  of  existence.  What 
change — what  form  would  be  his  now  ?  This 
thought  startled  him — roused  him, — and 
once  again  the  low  spirit-voice  of  his  long- 
ago  betrayed  and  murdered  love  thrilled  in 
his  ears : 

"  Soul  of  Araxes,  cling  to  my  soul ! — for 
this  present  life  is  swiftly  passing !  No  more 
scorn  of  the  Divine  can  stand  whither  we  are 
speeding,  for  the  Terrible  and  Eternal  Truth 
overshadows  us  and  our  destinies !  Closed 
are  the  gates  of  Heaven, — open  wide  are  the 
portals  of  Hell !  Enter  with  me,  my  lover 


300  ZTSKA 

Araxes! — die  as  I  died,  unprepared  and 
alone !  Die,  and  pass  out  into  new  life 
again — such  life  as  mine — such  torture  as 
mine — such  despair  as  mine — such  hate  as 
mine !  .  .  .  " 

She  ceased  abruptly,  for  he,  convinced  now 
of  the  certainty  of  Immortality,  was  suddenly 
moved  to  a  strange  access  of  courage  and 
resolution.  Something  sweet  and  subtle 
stirred  in  him, — a  sense  of  power, — a  hint  of 
joy,  which  completely  overcame  all  dread  of 
death.  Old  love  revived,  grew  stronger  in 
his  soul,  and  his  gaze  rested  on  the  shadowy 
form  beside  him,  no  longer  with  horror  but 
with  tenderness.  She  was  Ziska-Charmazel, 
— she  had  been  his  love — the  dearest  portion 
of  his  life — once  in  the  far-off  time  ;  she  had 
been  the  fairest  of  women — and  more  than 
fair,  she  had  been  faithful !  Yes,  he  remem- 
bered that,  as  he  remembered  Her!  Every 
curve  in  her  beautiful  body  had  been  a  joy 
for  him  alone ;  and  for  him  alone  her  lips, 
sweet  and  fresh  as  rosebuds,  had  kept  their 
kisses.  She  had  loved  him  as  few  women 
have  either  heart  or  strength  to  love,  and 
he  had  rewarded  her  fidelity  by  death  and 
eternal  torment !  A  struggling  cry  escaped 
him,  and  he  stretched  out  his  arms : 

"  Ziska !     Forgive — forgive  !  " 


ZISKA  301 

As  he  uttered  the  words,  he  saw  her  wan 
face  suddenly  change, — all  the  terror  and 
torture  passed  from  it  like  a  passing  cloud, 
— beautiful  as  an  angel's,  it  smiled  upon  him, 
— the  eyes  softened  and  flashed  with  love, 
the  lips  trembled,  the  spectral  form  glowed 
with  a  living  luminance,  and  a  mystic  Glory 
glittered  above  the  dusky  hair  !  Filled  with 
ecstasy  at  the  sight  of  her  wondrous  loveli- 
ness, he  felt  nothing  of  the  coldness  of  death 
at  his  heart, — a  divine  passion  inspired  him, 
and  with  the  last  effort  of  his  failing  strength 
he  strove  to  gather  all  the  spirit-like  beauty 
of  her  being  into  his  embrace. 

"  Love— Love  !  "  he  cried.  "  Not  Hate, 
but  Love !  Come  back  out  of  the  darkness, 
soul  of  the  woman  I  wronged !  Forgive 
me  !  Come  back  to  me !  Hell  or  Heaven, 
what  matters  it  if  we  are  together  !  Come 
to  me, — come  !  Love  is  stronger  than 
Hate!" 

Speech  failed  him  ;  the  cold  agony  of 
death  gripped  at  his  heart  and  struck  him 
mute,  but  still  he  saw  the  beautiful  passion- 
ate eyes  of  a  forgiving  Love  turned  glori- 
ously upon  him  like  stars  in  the  black  chaos 
whither  he  now  seemed  rushing.  Then 
came  a  solemn  surging  sound  as  of  great 
wings  beating  on  a  tempestuous  air,  and  all 


302  ZISKA 

the  light  in  the  tomb  was  suddenly  extin- 
guished. One  instant  more  he  stood  up- 
right in  the  thick  darkness  ;  then  a  burning 
knife  seemed  plunged  into  his  breast,  and 
he  reeled  forward  and  fell,  his  last  hold  on 
life  being  the  consciousness  that  soft  arms 
were  clasping  him  and  drawing  him  away — 
away — he  knew  not  whither — and  that  warm 
lips,  sweet  and  tender,  were  closely  pressed  on 
his.  And  presently,  out  of  the  heavy  gloom 
came  a  Voice  which  said : 

"  Peace  !  The  old  gods  are  best,  and  the 
law  is  made  perfect.  A  life  demands  a  life. 
Love's  debt  must  be  paid  by  Love !  The 
woman's  soul  forgives  ;  the  man's  repents, — 
wherefore  they  are  both  released  from  bond- 
age and  the  memory  of  sin.  Let  them  go 
hence,  the  curse  is  lifted  !  " 

*  *  *  * 

Once  more  the  wavering  ghostly  light 
gave  luminance  to  the  splendor  of  the  tomb, 
and  showed  where,  fallen  sideways  among 
the  golden  treasures  and  mementoes  of  the 
past,  lay  the  dead  body  of  Armand  Gervase. 
Above  him  gleamed  the  great  jewelled 
sarcophagus  ;  and  within  touch  of  his  pas- 
sive hand  was  the  ivory  shield  and  gold- 
hilted  sword  of  Araxes.  The  spectral  radi- 
ance gleamed,  wandered  and  flitted  over  all 


ZISKA  303 

things, — now  feebly,  now  brilliantly, — till 
finally  flashing  with  a  pale  glare  on  the  dark 
dead  face,  with  the  proud  closed  lips  and  black 
level  brows,  it  flickered  out ;  and  one  of  the 
many  countless  mysteries  of  the  Great  Pyra- 
mid was  again  hidden  in  impenetrable  dark- 
ness. 

*•»•** 

Vainly  Denzil  Marray  waited  next  morn- 
ing for  his  rival  to  appear.  He  paced  up 
and  down  impatiently,  watching  the  rosy 
hues  of  sunrise  spreading  over  the  wide 
desert  and  lighting  up  the  massive  features 
of  the  Sphinx,  till  as  hour  after  hour  passed 
and  still  Gervase  did  not  come,  he  hurried 
back  to  the  Mena  House  Hotel,  and  meet- 
ing Dr.  Maxwell  Dean  on  the  way,  to  him 
poured  out  his  rage  and  perplexity. 

"  I  never  thought  Gervase  was  a  coward !  " 
he  said  hotly. 

"  Nor  should  you  think  so  now,"  returned 
the  Doctor,  with  a  grave  and  preoccupied 
air.  "  Whatever  his  faults,  cowardice  was 
not  one  of  them.  You  see,  I  speak  of  him 
in  the  past  tense.  I  told  you  your  intended 
duel  would  not  come  off,  and  I  was  right. 
Denzil,  I  don't  think  you  will  ever  see  either 
Armand  Gervase  or  the  Princess  Ziska 
again." 


304  ZISKA 

Denzil  started  violently. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  The  Princess  is 
here, — here  in  this  very  house." 

"  Is  she  ? "  and  Dr.  Dean  sighed  some- 
what impatiently.  "  Well,  let  us  see  !  " 
Then,  turning  to  a  passing  waiter,  he  in- 
quired :  "  Is  the  Princess  Ziska  here  still  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.  She  left  quite  suddenly  late  last 
night ;  going  on  to  Thebes,  I  believe,  sir." 

The  Doctor  looked  meaningly  at  Denzil. 

"  You  hear  ?  " 

But  Denzil  in  his  turn  was  interrogating 
the  waiter. 

"  Is  Mr.  Gervase  in  his  room  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.  He  went  out  about  ten  o'clock 
yesterday  evening,  and  I  don't  think  he 
is  coming  back.  One  of  the  Princess  Ziska's 
servants — the  tall  Nubian  whom  you  may 
have  noticed,  sir — brought  a  message  from 
him  to  say  that  his  luggage  was  to  be  sent  to 
Paris,  and  that  the  money  for  his  bill  would 
be  found  on  his  dressing-table.  It  was  all 
right,  of  course,  but  we  thought  it  rather 
curious." 

And  glancing  deferentially  from  one  to 
the  other  of  his  questioners  with  a  smile,  the 
waiter  went  on  his  way. 

"  They  have  fled  together  !  "  said  Denzil 
then,  in  choked  accents  of  fury.  "  By 


ZISKA  305 

Heaven,  if  I  had  guessed  the  plan  already 
formed  in  his  treacherous  mind,  I  would 
never  have  shaken  hands  with  Gervase  last 
night !  " 

"  Oh,  you  did  shake  hands  ?  "  queried  Dr. 
Dean,  meditatively.  "  Well,  there  was  no 
harm  in  that.  You  were  right.  You  and 
Gervase  will  meet  no  more  in  this  life,  believe 
me !  He  and  the  Princess  Ziska  have  un- 
doubtedly, as  you  say,  fled  together — but 
not  to  Thebes  !  " 

He  paused  a  moment,  then  laid  his  hand 
kindly  on  Denzil's  shoulder. 

"  Let  us  go  back  to  Cairo,  my  boy,  and 
from  thence  as  soon  as  possible  to  England. 
We  shall  all  be  better  away  from  this  terrible 
land,  where  the  dead  have  far  more  power 
than  the  living  !  " 

Denzil  stared  at  him  uncomprehendingly. 

"You  talk  in  riddles  !  "  he  said,  irritably. 
"  Do  you  think  I  shall  let  Gervase  escape 
me  ?  I  will  track  him  wherever  he  has  gone, 
— I  daresay  I  shall  find  him  in  Paris." 

Dr.  Dean  took  one  or  two  slow  turns  up 
and  down  the  corridor  where  they  were  con- 
versing, then  stopping  abruptly,  looked  his 
young  friend  full  and  steadily  in  the  eyes. 

"  Come,  come,  Denzil.  No  more  of  this 
folly/'  he  said,  gently.  "  Why  should  you 


306  ZISKA 

entertain  these  ideas  of  vengeance  against 
Gervase  ?  He  has  really  done  you  no  harm. 
He  was  the  natural  mate  of  the  woman  you 
imagined  you  loved, — the  response  to  her 
query, — the  other  half  of  her  being ;  and 
that  she  was  and  is  his  destiny,  and  he  hers, 
should  not  excite  your  envy  or  hatred.  I 
say  you  imagined  you  loved  the  Princess 
Ziska, — it  was  a  young  man's  hot  freak  of 
passion  for  an  almost  matchless  beauty,  but 
no  more  than  that.  And  if  you  would  be 
frank  with  yourself,  you  know  that  passion 
has  already  cooled.  I  repeat,  you  will  never 
see  Gervase  or  the  Princess  Ziska  again  in 
this  life ;  so  make  the  best  of  it." 

"  Perhaps  you  have  assisted  him  to  escape 
me  !  "  said  Denzil  frigidly. 

Dr.  Dean  smiled. 

"  That's  rather  a  rough  speech,  Denzil ! 
But  never  mind  !  "  he  returned.  "  Your 
pride  is  wounded,  and  you  are  still  sore. 
Suspect  me  as  you  please, — make  me  out  a 
new  Pandarus,  if  you  like — I  shall  not  be 
offended.  But  you  know — for  I  have  often 
told  you — that  I  never  interfere  in  love 
matters.  They  are  too  explosive,  too  vitally 
dangerous  ;  outsiders  ought  never  to  meddle 
with  them.  And  I  never  do.  Come  back 
with  me  to  Cairo.  And  when  we  are  once 


ZISKA  307 

more  safely  established  on  the  solid  and  un- 
romantic  isles  of  Britain,  you  will  forget  all 
about  the  Princess  Ziska  ;  or  if  you  do  re- 
member her,  it  will  only  be  as  a  dream  in  the 
night,  a  kind  of  vague  shadow  and  uncer- 
tainty, which  will  never  seriously  trouble 
your  mind.  You  look  incredulous.  I  tell 
you  at  your  age  love  is  little  more  than  a 
vision ;  you  must  wait  a  few  years  yet  before 
it  becomes  a  reality,  and  then  Heaven  help 
you,  Denzil ! — for  you  will  be  a  troublesome 
fellow  to  deal  with  !  Meanwhile,  let  us  get 
back  to  Cairo  and  see  Helen." 

Somewhat  soothed  by  the  Doctor's  good- 
nature, and  a  trifle  ashamed  of  his  wrath, 
Denzil  yielded,  and  the  evening  saw  them 
both  back  at  the  Gezireh  Palace  Hotel, 
where  of  course  the  news  of  the  sudden  dis- 
appearance of  Armand  Gervase  with  the 
Princess  Ziska  created  the  utmost  excite- 
ment. Helen  Murray  shivered  and  grew 
pale  as  death  when  she  heard  it ;  lively  old 
Lady  Fulkeward  simpered  and  giggled,  and 
declared  it  was  "  the  most  delightful  thing 
she  had  ever  heard  of  !  " — an  elopement  in 
the  desert  was  "  so  exquisitely  romantic  !  " 
Sir  Chetwynd  Lyle  wrote  a  conventional 
and  stilted  account  of  it  for  his  paper,  and 
ponderously  opined  that  the  immorality 


308  ZISKA. 

of  Frenchmen  was  absolutely  beyond  any 
decent  journalist's  powers  of  description. 
Lady  Chetwynd  Lyle,  on  the  contrary,  said 
that  the  "  scandal  "  was  not  the  fault  of  Ger- 
vase  ;  it  was  all "  that  horrid  woman,"  who  had 
thrown  herself  at  his  head.  Ross  Courtney 
thought  the  whole  thing  was  "  queer  ;  "  and 
young  Lord  Fulkeward  said  there  was  some- 
thing about  it  he  didn't  quite  understand, — 
something  "  deep,"  which  his  aristocratic 
quality  of  intelligence  could  not  fathom. 
And  society  talked  and  gossiped  till  Paris  and 
London  caught  the  rumor,  and  the  name 
of  the  famous  French  artist,  who  had  so 
strangely  vanished  from  the  scene  of  his  tri- 
umphs with  a  beautiful  woman  whom  no  one 
had  ever  heard  of  before,  was  soon  in  every- 
body's mouth.  No  trace  of  him  or  of  the 
Princess  Ziska  could  be  discovered  ;  his  port- 
manteau contained  no  letters  or  papers, — 
nothing  but  a  few  clothes ;  his  paint-box 
and  easel  were  sent  on  to  his  deserted  studio 
in  Paris,  and  also  a  blank  square  of  canvas, 
on  which,  as  Dr.  Dean  and  others  knew, 
had  once  been  the  curiously-horrible  por- 
trait of  the  Princess.  But  that  appalling 
"  first  sketch "  was  wiped  out  and  clean 
gone  as  though  it  had  never  been  painted, 
and  Dr.  Dean  called  Denzil's  attention  to 


ZISKA  309 

the  fact.  But  Denzil  thought  nothing  of  it, 
as  he  imagined  that  Gervase  himself  had 
obliterated  it  before  leaving  Cairo. 

A  few  of  the  curious  among  the  gossips 
went  to  see  the  house  the  Princess  had  lately 
occupied,  where  she  had  "  received  "  society 
and  managed  to  shock  it  as  well.  It  was 
shut  up,  and  looked  as  if  it  had  not  been 
inhabited  for  years.  And  the  gossips  said 
it  was  "  strange,  very  strange  ! '  and  con- 
fessed themselves  utterly  mystified.  But 
the  fact  remained  that  Gervase  had  disap- 
peared and  the  Princess  Ziska  with  him. 
"  However,"  said  Society,  "  they  can't  pos- 
sibly hide  themselves  for  long.  Two  such 
remarkable  personalities  are  bound  to  appear 
again  somewhere.  I  daresay  we  shall  come 
across  them  in  Paris  or  on  the  Riviera.  The 
world  is  much  too  small  for  the  holding  of 
a  secret." 

And  presently,  with  the  approach  of 
spring,  and  the  gradual  break-up  of  the  Cairo 
"  season,"  Denzil  Murray  and  his  sister 
sailed  from  Alexandria  en  route  for  Venice. 
Dr.  Dean  accompanied  them  ;  so  did  the 
Fulkewards  and  Ross  Courtney.  The 
Chetwynd-Lyles  went  by  a  different  steamer, 
"  old  "  Lady  Fulkeward  being  quite  too  much 
for  the  patience  of  those  sweet  but  still  unen- 


310  ZISKA 

gaged  "  girls  "  Muriel  and  Dolly.  One  night 
when  the  great  ship  was  speeding  swiftly 
over  a  calm  sea,  and  Denzil,  lost  in  sorrow- 
ful meditation,  was  gazing  out  over  the 
trackless  ocean  with  pained  and  passionate 
eyes  which  could  see  nothing  but  the  witch- 
ing and  exquisite  beauty  of  the  Princess 
Ziska,  now  possessed  and  enjoyed  by  Ger- 
vase,  Dr.  Dean  touched  him  on  the  arm  and 
said: 

"  Denzil,  have  you  ever  read  Shakes- 
peare ?  " 

Denzil  started  and  forced  a  smile. 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course  !  " 

"  Then  you  know  the  lines — 

'  There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy  ?  ' 

The  Princess  Ziska  was  one  of  those 
'  things.' " 

Denzil  regarded  him  in  wonderment. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course,  you  will  think  me  insane," 
said  the  Doctor,  resignedly.  "  People  always 
take  refuge  in  thinking  that  those  who  tell 
them  uncomfortable  truths  are  lunatics. 
You've  heard  me  talk  of  ghosts? — ghosts 
that  walk  and  move  about  us  like  human 
beings  ? — and  they  are  generally  very  brilliant 


ZISKA  311 

and  clever  impersonations  of  humanity,  too 
— and  that  nevertheless  are  not  human  ?  " 

Denzil  assented. 

"  The  Princess  Ziska  was  a  ghost !  "  con- 
cluded the  Doctor,  folding  his  arms  very 
tightly  across  his  chest  and  nodding  defiantly. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  cried  Denzil.  "  You  are 
mad ! " 

"  Precisely  the  remark  I  thought  you  would 
make  ! "  and  Dr.  Dean  unfolded  his  arms  again 
and  smiled  triumphantly.  "  Therefore,  my 
dear  boy,  let  us  for  the  future  avoid  this  sub- 
ject. I  know  what  I  know  ;  I  can  distinguish 
phantoms  from  reality,  and  I  am  not  deceived 
by  appearances.  But  the  world  prefers  igno- 
rance to  knowledge,  and  even  so  let  it  be. 
Next  time  I  meet  a  ghost  I'll  keep  my  own 
counsel !  "  He  paused  a  moment, — then 
added :  "  You  remember  I  told  you  I  was 
hunting  down  that  warrior  of  old  time, 
Araxes?" 

Denzil  nodded,  a  trifle  impatiently. 

"Well,"  resumed  the  Doctor  slowly, — 
"  Before  we  left  Egypt  I  found  him  !  But 
how  I  found  him,  and  where,  is  my  secret ! " 

#  •*  *  * 

*  *  *  * 


312  ZISKA 

Society  still  speaks  occasionally  of  Armand 
Gervase,  and  wonders  in  its  feeble  way  when 
he  will  be  "  tired  "  of  the  Egyptian  beauty 
he  ran  away  with,  or  she  of  him.  Society 
never  thinks  very  far  or  cares  very  much 
for  anything  long,  but  it  does  certainly  expect 
to  see  the  once  famous  French  artist  "  turn 
up  "  suddenly,  either  in  his  old  quarters  in 
Paris,  or  in  one  or  the  other  of  the  fashionable 
resorts  of  the  Riviera.  That  he  should  be 
dead  has  never  occurred  to  anyone,  except 
perhaps  Dr.  Maxwell  Dean.  But  Dr.  Dean 
has  grown  extremely  reticent — almost  surly  ; 
and  never  answers  any  questions  concerning 
his  Scientific  Theory  of  Ghosts,  a  work  which, 
when  published,  created  a  great  deal  of  excite- 
ment, owing  to  its  singularity  and  novelty  of 
treatment.  There  was  the  usual  "hee-hawing" 
from  the  donkeys  in  the  literary  pasture,  who 
fondly  imagined  their  brayings  deserved  to  be 
considered  in  the  light  of  serious  opinion  ; — 
and  then  after  a  while  the  book  fell  into  the 
hands  of  scientists  only, — men  who  are  begin- 
ning to  understand  the  discretion  of  silence, 
and  to  hold  their  tongues  as  closely  as  the 
Egyptian  priests  of  old  did,  aware  that  the 
great  majority  of  men  are  never  ripe  for 
knowledge.  Quite  lately  Dr.  Dean  attended 
two  weddings, — one  being  that  of  "  old  " 


ZISKA  313 

Lady  Fulkeward,  who  has  married  a  very 
pretty  young  fellow  of  five-and-twenty,  whose 
dearest  consideration  in  life  is  the  shape  of 
his  shirt-collar  ;  the  other,  that  of  Denzil 
Murray,  who  has  wedded  the  perfectly  well- 
born, well-bred  and  virtuous,  if  somewhat 
cold-blooded,  daughter  of  his  next-door 
neighbor  in  the  Highlands.  Concerning  his 
Egyptian  experience  he  never  speaks , — he 
lives  the  ordinary  life  of  the  Scottish  land- 
owner, looking  after  his  tenantry,  considering 
the  crops,  preserving  the  game,  and  clearing 
fallen  timber ; — and  if  the  glowing  face  of 
the  beautiful  Ziska  ever  floats  before  his 
memory,  it  is  only  in  a  vague  dream  from 
which  he  quickly  rouses  himself  with  a 
troubled  sigh.  His  sister  Helen  has  never 
married.  Lord  Fulkeward  proposed  to  her 
but  was  gently  rejected,  whereupon  the  dis- 
consolate young  nobleman  took  a  journey  to 
the  States  and  married  the  daughter  of  a 
millionaire  oil-merchant  instead.  Sir  Chet- 
wynd  Lyle  and  his  pig-faced  spouse  still 
thrive  and  grow  fat  on  the  proceeds  of  the 
Daily  Dial,  and  there  is  faint  hope  that  one 
of  their  "  girls  "will  wed  an  aspiring  journal- 
ist,— a  bold  adventurer  who  wants  4<  a  share 
in  the  paper"  somehow,  even  if  he  has  to 
marry  Muriel  or  Dolly  in  order  to  get  it. 


314  ZISKA 

Ross  Courtney  is  the  only  man  of  the  party 
once  assembled  at  the  Gezireh  Palace  Hotel 
who  still  goes  to  Cairo  every  winter,  fascinated 
thither  by  an  annually  recurring  dim  notion 
that  he  may  "  discover  traces "  of  the  lost 
Armand  Gervase  and  the  Princess  Ziska. 
And  he  frequently  accompanies  the  numerous 
sight-seers  who  season  after  season  drive 
from  Cairo  to  the  Pyramids,  and  take  pleas- 
ure in  staring  at  the  Sphinx  with  all  the  im- 
pertinence common  to  pigmies  when  con- 
templating greatness.  But  more  riddles  than 
that  of  the  Sphinx  are  lost  in  the  depths  of 
the  sandy  desert  ;  and  more  unsolved  prob- 
lems lie  in  the  recesses  of  the  past  than  even 
the  restless  and  inquiring  spirit  of  modern 
times  will  ever  discover ; — and  if  it  should 
ever  chance  that  in  days  to  come,  the  secret 
of  the  movable  floor  of  the  Great  Pyramid 
should  be  found,  and  the  lost  treasures  of 
Egypt  brought  to  light,  there  will  probably 
be  much  discussion  and  marvel  concerning 
the  Golden  Tomb  of  Araxes.  For  the  hiero- 
glyphs on  the  jewelled  sarcophagus  speak  of 
him  thus  and  say : — 

"  Araxes  was  a  Man  of  Might,  far  exceed- 
ing in  Strength  and  Beauty  the  common  sons 
of  men.  Great  in  War,  Invincible  in  Love, 
he  did  Excel  in  Deeds  of  Courage  and  of 


ZISKA  315 

Conquest, — and  for  whatsoever  Sins  he  did 
in  the  secret  Weakness  of  humanity  commit, 
the  Gods  must  judge  him.  But  in  all  that 
may  befit  a  Warrior,  Amenhotep  The  King 
doth  give  him  honor, — and  to  the  Spirits  of 
Darkness  and  of  Light  his  Soul  is  here  com- 
mended to  its  Rest." 

Thus  much  of  the  fierce  dead  hero  of  old 
time, — but  of  the  mouldering  corpse  that  lies 
on  the  golden  floor  of  the  same  tomb,  its 
skeleton  hand  touching,  almost  grasping,  the 
sword  of  Araxes,  what  shall  be  said  ?  Noth- 
ing— since  the  Old  and  the  New,  the  Past  and 
the  Present,  are  but  as  one  moment  in  the 
countings  of  eternity,  and  even  with  a  late 
repentance  Love  pardons  all. 


FINIS. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


NOV  8        195 


OCT  2  3  1918 
OCTU 


APR  2 


7  '585 


JUN 


'D  LO- 


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i 


SEPX6 

-ll.'oOl 


REC'D  LD-URL 


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MQQC 


Form  L9-50»«-ll,'50  ^2554) 444 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

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Corelli.- 


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PR 

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